


A Map (written on your heart)

by analineblue



Category: Glee
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Happy Ending, M/M, Season/Series 04, Season/Series 05, Season/Series 06, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-05-25 14:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6198637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/analineblue/pseuds/analineblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The evolution of Kurt and Blaine, from the back seat of a car at Mr. Schue’s wedding, to Bushwick, to <em>I am a work in progress</em>.  (Or, the one where Kurt Hummel becomes Kurt Hummel-Anderson, a decade earlier than planned.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is more or less a series of missing scenes, some within episodes, and some outside of them, starting mid-S4, but mostly focused on seasons 5 and 6. Kurt POV. Also my first Glee fic, because I am forever late to the party ;)

_January, 2013_

“So, about Mr. Schue’s wedding,” Blaine says one cold January night, his voice crystal-clear in Kurt’s ear, despite the miles between them.

Kurt is on his way to meet Rachel for dinner, and he’d considered not answering. It’s too cold, for one thing – his fingers are bright red and freezing, exposed to the air like this, as he presses the phone to his ear tightly. For another thing, Blaine is not his boyfriend anymore, hasn’t been for a while. There are things Kurt has had to let go of.

And then Blaine says, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but…” in a voice that moves a tiny sliver of _something_ in Kurt’s heart, just a little. He can feel it deep inside of him, tentative, and familiar, and really, really terrifying. 

Blaine sounds nervous, and hopeful, and for a while Kurt just listens to his voice while Sixth Avenue bustles around him in the darkness of rush hour in Manhattan in the middle of winter. 

Blaine is saying, “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. No pressure. It would just be as friends, of course. And if you don’t want me to be there, and you want to go with Mercedes, or Rachel or…whoever, that’s fine too. I don’t have to go.” 

And Kurt realizes in that moment that of course he’ll go to the wedding with Blaine, even though he’s not sure he’s ready, because he is sure that this is exactly what he wants, regardless.

“Okay,” he tells Blaine, and starts walking again, sub-freezing air numbing his face until Blaine asks, hopefully, “Okay, you’ll go with me, or okay, you don’t want me to be there?” 

Kurt just laughs, and sniffles against the cold. 

“Yes, I’ll go to Mr. Schue’s wedding with you, Blaine.” 

He doesn’t realize until after he hangs up the phone, until he’s halfway down the stairs to the subway and touches his hand to his face to find that it it’s wet and practically frozen stiff from the wind, that he’s crying.

**

There are a lot of moments like this with Blaine. Moments when Kurt doesn’t realize what he’s feeling until it’s too late, until the words have spilled out of his mouth, or his body has moved on its own, carried forward by some kind of invisible momentum that Kurt suspects he’s always been powerless against, like a thread that lies underneath everything, pulling him back when he loses his way. 

It makes things possible that shouldn’t be possible – Blaine’s body pressed up against him in the back seat of a car at Mr. Shuester’s wedding, their hands all over each other, eyes desperate and in denial and full of hope at the same time.

Blaine had said it was no coincidence – Christmas, Valentine’s Day - and he’d been right. About Adam, he’d said _you’re not **in** New York_ and _it’s not exclusive_ and he’d been right about that too. He could have said _you **knew** this would happen or you wanted this or this will happen over and over again no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise_ or any number of things, and probably, Blaine would have been right about all of them.

Because the truth is, there are things that Kurt has held on to, also. He’d felt something that night, walking down Sixth Avenue, listening to Blaine ask him out, _as friends_ , after so many months, and then later, swiping his MetroCard through the turnstile and trying to wipe the tears from his face at the same time. 

He’d felt something shift inside of him, had been waiting for it, maybe. 

**

It had started long before that, of course, with a boy on a staircase – bright eyes, and an honest, open smile, as if a switch had been flipped somewhere. As if sixteen-year-old Kurt had been asleep his entire life until this moment, and now he was finally here, he’d arrived. 

Blaine had disarmed him, changed everything in an instant, made Kurt feel like he could do anything, _be_ anything - and the feeling had never faded, not really. 

There’s something powerful and almost sacred in Blaine’s eyes when he looks at Kurt, like Kurt is the only person in the room, every single time. It’s always made Kurt feel strong, and sure of himself, and maybe a little magical, like a superhero, or the unsuspecting heroine in a fairy tale.

**

After Mr. Schue’s wedding, Blaine texts. He calls, sometimes - not too much, but more often than before. Once, he sends flowers. They’re officially for Rachel, congratulations for some NYADA competition that Kurt had only been vaguely aware of, but there’s a smiley face, and a _Hi Kurt!_ in the neat slant of Blaine’s handwriting, squeezed into the right margin of the tiny card. The flowers are a brilliant mix of white and yellow roses with carnations and wild heather, too, and they brighten up the apartment for weeks. 

Blaine has always been very good at reminding Kurt of exactly why he fell in love with him. 

Adam starts to feel peripheral - not on purpose, really, but Kurt is surprised by how easy it is to walk away, is a little shocked to learn that something resembling a clean break is a thing that he can do.

Blaine texts, calls, Skypes. 

He assures, and reassures, and offers support. He’s a good friend when Kurt needs one, and Kurt is grateful. When his dad’s test results come back with the best possible news, Blaine is the first person he tells - the only person he needs to tell, really. Kurt watches Blaine’s eyes mist over in relief, and resists the urge to pull him close, to bury himself in Blaine’s shoulder, to press his lips against the soft skin of Blaine’s neck. 

He lets Blaine relay the news to Rachel because it feels right, because, Kurt realizes, he trusts him. Realizing this makes Kurt feel warm and happy and content, like the balance of the universe has finally been restored, or at least part of it, anyway.

**

They spend an entire Saturday afternoon together, watching movies in Blaine’s bedroom – a classic movie-musical marathon on TCM. Their shoulders press against each other on the bed. During _Singin’ in the Rain_ , Blaine’s Gene Kelly impression is so spot-on and charming, and yet still so fundamentally _Blaine_ , that Kurt can’t help but blush. 

They make dinner for his dad and Carole the next night. Nothing fancy, spaghetti carbonara, with a side of sautéed brussel sprouts, and afterwards, Blaine falls asleep on the couch watching reruns of Mad Men. For several long moments, Kurt just watches him – the rise and fall of his chest, the shadow his long eyelashes cast on his skin. 

After so many months spent measuring his words with Blaine, and limiting his contact, it feels kind of wonderful, just being here like this, not having to hold himself back. 

Kurt realizes that he’s happier, sitting on this sagging old couch in his basement in Lima than he’s been since he arrived in New York. It’s as if he’s been holding his breath for forever, and now he can finally relax, he can let go. 

**

And while it’s Blaine who takes the leap one sunny afternoon on the steps of McKinley, honestly, as far as Kurt’s concerned, things had already changed between them, long before that day. He just hadn’t quite gotten around to saying it out loud yet. Or allowing his heart to fully believe it. 

Spread out in front of him in picnic form, Blaine’s bowtie is like a beacon, and it all seems so obvious.

Hearing Blaine say it out loud - _boyfriends_ \- makes Kurt feel giddy, and a little reckless. Everything is bright sunlight and brilliant color and _Blaine_. Blaine, who is officially, exclusively _his_ again. He thinks his heart might bounce out of his chest, that he might just let it. 

He settles for a searing kiss that sets his entire body on fire, and the promise of many, many more to come.

**

And then they’re back on that staircase at Dalton, and there are actual rose petals raining down over Kurt’s head- it’s like he’s stepped inside some kind of beautifully-designed, but still-a-little-insane musical fantasy. 

The music stops, and Blaine says _all I’ve ever wanted is to spend the rest of my life loving you_ and Kurt thinks maybe time has stopped too. And then he’s saying _yes_ with his voice, which is shaking and breathless, and also with what feels like his entire _being_. 

He allows himself to be folded into Blaine’s arms, allows Blaine to hold him so tightly he thinks he actually stops breathing for a few seconds, and for so long that he forgets there are people watching and cheering and waiting to congratulate them, waiting for a photo-op. For several long moments all he can hear is his heart hammering in his chest.

It feels crazy, and it’s way too-much, too-soon, but it also feels more right than anything Kurt has ever felt in his entire life. 

Kurt doesn’t know how else to explain it – it wasn’t possible, it shouldn’t be possible, but it is, because it’s _Blaine_ , and so of course. This is happening. This has _always_ been happening. 

**

Kurt had wanted to head back to New York quietly. At the very least, he’d wanted to avoid the heart-wrenching, tearful airport goodbye that he knew would mortify at least one of them later.

Instead, next to of a row of self-check-in kiosks for Delta Air Lines, Blaine looks Kurt in the eye, and in front of at least a half a dozen people who may or may not be paying attention, he says, “I know I’ve said it a hundred times already, but I’m just so happy, Kurt. I’m so happy you said yes.”

He grabs both of Kurt’s hands, and with an unguarded look of joy in his eyes, very nearly convinces Kurt that maybe, just maybe, getting on a plane back to New York _isn’t_ the worst decision in the world. After all, Blaine is his, now – forever - whether he’s in Lima, or New York, or anywhere else.

“Of course I said yes,” Kurt tells him, turning his hand over in Blaine’s, letting Blaine run his fingers back and forth over the ring, like he can’t quite believe it’s real. (It _is_ – Kurt loves the solid weight of it on his finger, loves its closeness.)

“You didn’t really give me much of a choice, you know,” Kurt says, thinking of the swirling insanity of Blaine’s proposal, of Blaine, professing his love for Kurt in front of pretty much everyone either of them had ever known.

“Did you need much of a choice?” Blaine squeezes Kurt’s fingers, staring fondly into his eyes, and the rest of the airport is suddenly miles away.

“No,” Kurt says quietly.

He realizes something in that moment that he honestly hadn’t known when he’d asked his dad for advice on the way to Dalton, when he’d been more than a little terrified about making such a huge decision when they were still so new at this, at being with each other like this again.

He leans forward and presses his forehead to Blaine’s.

"I would have said yes wherever and whenever you asked me. You know that.”

Then Blaine’s arms come up around Kurt’s waist, tugging him close, possessive and sweet, and Kurt wants nothing more in that moment than for Blaine to hold him like this forever, for the next two months, until he can come back to New York with him. He’s not looking forward to Brooklyn and Rachel and Broadway and sleeping alone, again.

Kurt has never been much for public displays of affection, but he presses his lips to Blaine’s, in full view the entire terminal because he just doesn’t care, because he’s saying goodbye to his fiancé and because it’s really important that he get it right. He has to make Blaine understand that he’s in this for the long haul, that nothing is going to come between them anymore. Blaine will remember this kiss, will carry it with him to McKinley tomorrow and the next day and the next day and so it needs to be good; it needs to be everything.

Kurt nearly misses his flight, but it’s worth every second, and he’d do it again, right now, in a heartbeat.

**

Back in New York, of course, no one really cares about his fiancé back in Ohio. He’s lucky to get an obligatory _congratulations_ , which is a little disappointing, because Kurt is eager for everyone in New York to love Blaine as much as he does. He needs them to, maybe. Needs people to see them as formidable together, a force to be reckoned with. Which, of course, they absolutely are.

And when he thinks about it that way, he’s sure he has nothing to worry about. He likes his odds when it comes to Blaine, he always has – and he likes their odds together even more.

After all, he’s Kurt Hummel, counter-tenor extraordinaire, best friend of up-and-coming Broadway ingénue Rachel Berry. And Blaine is, well, _Blaine_. And it takes a pretty special person to resist Blaine Anderson's charms, in the end. 

He relates this theory to Blaine from his bedroom, on unseasonably chilly Tuesday night in April. He can hear Rachel’s TV from across the loft, a muffled din of voices, even though Kurt is sure she’s already asleep. 

Not for the first time, he silently thanks the universe for the invention of Skype. Now that they've started this nightly ritual, Kurt has a really hard time falling asleep if he can't say good night to Blaine's actual face, first.

"And what exactly _are_ these charms you speak so highly of?" 

Blaine waggles his eyebrows for emphasis and Kurt rolls his eyes. 

Blaine hasn’t changed clothes yet, even though it’s late - his sweater is draped over the chair next to the bed, and the shirt underneath is a little rumpled. Kurt stares at Blaine’s plaid-covered chest for a moment, eyes flickering up to his neck, to the tiny triangle of skin that’s exposed there, and then to his face. 

"You have plenty of charming qualities, Blaine, but those eyebrows are not included. Seriously,” he tells him, mostly kidding. “You have heard of waxing, right?" 

"Anyway,” Blaine says, ignoring him, “don’t let it get to you. You know it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, because we’re going to prove them wrong. It’ll be fun."

"I know," Kurt agrees, but he’s not sure he's convinced. 

Blaine grins at him then, his eyes scrunching up at the corners, and a wave of nostalgia washes over Kurt. He misses Blaine’s bedroom, misses curling up under Blaine’s blankets, the smell of his stupid hair gel, misses everything about him. 

“Come on. You know it’s going to be great – you _love_ proving people wrong.” 

"That’s true,” Kurt admits. He sighs. “I just want..." 

“What?” 

"Oh, I don't know.” Kurt stalls as he watches Blaine’s face change from curious to mildly concerned. “Mostly I just want you," he admits. 

"Well, I miss you too, Kurt." Blaine looks pleased, and a little incredulous.

"What? Is it surprising that I'd prefer to have my--my fiancé in bed with me, rather than hundreds of miles away?"

"No,” Blaine says, but there's something else going on in his eyes. He looks away for a second, and then smiles. “Of course not.” 

Kurt shakes his head. "Don't do that. What are you thinking?"

Blaine fiddles with his fingers in his lap, with the cuff of his shirt for a moment. 

"It’s just that, well, six months ago, I wasn't sure if you'd ever speak to me again. I mean, deep down, I figured you probably would, but..." He flashes a self-conscious smile. "You know, if your new friends are less than excited about our engagement, it's probably just because they don't want you to get hurt. You can't really blame them." 

"Blaine,” Kurt says, measuring his voice. “My friends don't know anything about us. Do you think that I went around badmouthing you to everyone I met when we broke up?" 

"No. I don't know. I'm sorry." He looks up at Kurt, apologetic and a little sad. "I think I'm just in a weird mood tonight." 

Kurt stares at his laptop screen, at the person staring back at him. Not understanding what’s going on in Blaine’s head, even when he thinks they’re in a good place makes everything feel off-balance, makes him wonder if there's something wrong with him, with them, that he can never seem to see this coming.

"Blaine." Kurt’s voice is softer this time. "It’s okay if you're in a weird mood. I still want you to talk to me. I want us to talk about stuff like this.”

"I know. I’m sorry." 

“And trust me, everyone’s going to love you as much as I do once you get here, if I have anything to say about it. And I do. I have rather a lot to say on the subject.”

Blaine stares at him for a moment, and then says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, "I love you so much, Kurt.” 

Kurt suspects that sometimes Blaine says this when he doesn't know what else to say, as if it’s the one thing that he can always fall back on. He’d like to say it’s annoying, or that repeating the words lessens their value, but honestly, it’s one of the things that Kurt loves most about him.

"I love you, too,” he says. “And I don't kiss and tell. Or break up and tell. Okay?" He studies Blaine's face, which is curiously unreadable at the moment, but it might just be the time lag. He waits until Blaine’s face stills on the screen. "I also feel like this would be a good time for me to remind you that I’ve forgiven you. For everything. You know that, right?" 

Blaine is quiet for a second, and then another.

“Come on, say something, you’re making me nervous.” 

"Sorry,” Blaine says quickly. “I know you’ve forgiven me. I'm not saying you haven't." 

Kurt nods. He waits. And when Blaine doesn't say anything else, he asks, very quietly, "And what about you? Have you?”

"Have I what?"

"Forgiven me.”

Blaine doesn’t say anything, just stares at him, so Kurt keeps going. 

“For coming to New York without you. For pushing you away,” he says. “For not being there when you needed me. I knew something was wrong and I should have talked to you about it." 

It’s taken Kurt a long time to come to terms with the fact that something hadn’t been right between them for a while before Blaine ended up in someone else’s bed. He'd ignored it, had chosen not to focus on it, in favor of a new city, a new life.

Blaine is quiet for a moment, and then he says, seriously, "I really wish I could kiss you right now." 

"Blaine Anderson, that is not an answer to my question." 

Kurt disappears off-screen for a second, and when he returns to view, he's got a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

“Sorry, it’s freezing in here tonight,” he explains, pulling the soft fleece a little tighter to his chest.

"It's so drafty in that place. When I move in, I'm bringing insulation with me. Or at least an extra blanket or two." 

Kurt smiles wishing he could reach through the screen and pull Blaine close to him. 

"Look, I know you wouldn't have asked me to marry you if you hadn't forgiven me. I think I just wanted to hear you say it." 

"I know." Blaine’s voice is quiet. "And I forgive you, of course I do. I forgave you a long time ago." 

Kurt closes his eyes. He’s a little taken off guard by the warmth in his cheeks, the tightness in his throat. 

"Thank you," Kurt says, meaning it, and then he realizes that there’s something else he needs to say. “You know we’re not going to get anywhere if we keep blaming ourselves for the past, right? You have to forgive yourself, too. Please." 

Blaine stares at him with a look so intense that Kurt can practically feel it, even a million miles away like this, as if he’s just unearthed some great secret of the universe. Then he shakes his head, and smiles. Soft, just for Kurt, the one that makes him melt every single time. 

"You’re right. Of course you are.” 

"What can I say, I'm a genius. Admit it,” Kurt says lightly, because nothing weighs anything when Blaine is smiling at him like that. 

"You really are, and I love you for it." 

Kurt lets his insides go a little warm and squirmy at that. 

"Why do you have to be so far away," Kurt says, which, if he’s being honest, is what he says when he can't think of anything else. He also means it, of course.

“I’ll be there soon. I promise.” 

Kurt closes his eyes. He focuses on Blaine’s voice, doesn’t say anything else, because he doesn't quite trust his voice.

When Blaine says, “I love you so much,” for the second time, the words settle somewhere deep in Kurt’s chest. 

“I love you, too,” Kurt says. 

Then he reaches over and turns off the lamp next to his bed, so that the only light in the room is the light from his laptop. The darkness makes him feel small, five years old and begging his mom for one more bedtime story. He hates that he has no way of knowing if it’s a real memory, or an imagined one. Something he’s holding on to because it matters, because it’s real, or something he’s just constructed in his head.

The city outside the window is quiet and still, miles and miles of darkness between Lima and Brooklyn.

“Oh, I keep forgetting to tell you…” 

To Kurt's great relief, it’s the start of a story Blaine had promised Kurt earlier, Tina had apparently refused to sing a duet with Kitty, and Mr. Schuester was threatening serious repercussions. Typical New Directions drama, the kind that feels new every time, but has happened a dozen times before, and will probably happen a dozen times again before graduation. Kurt listens, grateful for the sound of Blaine's voice.

Blaine doesn’t seem tired at all. Kurt wonders if it’s going to be one of those nights where he stays up until odd hours reading or poking around at music until the sun is practically up. Kurt hates pulling all-nighters – it wreaks havoc on his skin, and throws his schedule off for days, but he thinks he’d be up for it tonight. If it meant being there in Blaine’s bedroom with him, he might consider giving up sleep for a week. 

Kurt is aware of the fact that pining for Blaine like this is ridiculous. That Blaine is graduating next month, and that he’ll be here with him before he knows it. Sometimes he wonders if he’s making up for lost time, all those nights last year when he wasn’t allowed to miss Blaine, because he was _angry_ and anger like that didn’t allow for this kind of visceral longing that makes his chest, his entire body ache sometimes. 

Kurt takes a shaky breath, lets it out slowly. 

“Hey,” Blaine says, and Kurt realizes that Blaine has stopped talking, that they’ve been sitting there in silence for a few seconds. “What are you thinking about?”

Kurt says the first thing that pops into his head. “Do you know how many miles it is from Lima to Brooklyn?” 

“Why do I feel like this is a rhetorical question..."

Kurt narrows his eyes. “Five hundred and ninety-three. I may have looked it up. More than once.” 

“Okay…” 

Blaine sounds confused, and maybe a little concerned, and Kurt can’t really blame him. They don’t really need to discuss the specific number of miles between them, as if that has ever mattered. 

“Sorry.” Kurt is suddenly exhausted. “It’s late and I really need to be downtown before eight tomorrow. I should probably try to get some sleep.” 

“Kurt.” Blaine’s voice has that scary-serious tone, the one that always gets Kurt’s attention. “What’s wrong?” 

Kurt feels tears blossom behind his eyes, and panics a little, grateful for the darkness. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, Blaine.” 

“Kurt,” Blaine says again, his voice still urgent.

“What?” 

“I’m sorry that it’s so far,” Blaine says, like it’s his fault, like he’s to blame for the size of Ohio, or the drawing of state lines.

“It’s not really _that_ far,” Kurt argues. He feels silly, exposed. “And it’s not something you need to apologize for, anyway.” 

“I meant that I’m sorry I can’t be there.” Blaine looks genuinely upset now, which is really not helping. “I _want_ to be.” 

“I know. I didn’t mean--" 

“ _Kurt_ ,” Blaine says. “I miss you, too. So much. Sam and Tina keep telling me I never shut up about you - and I just… I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can. Hopefully I’ll get into NYADA, but even if I don’t. We’ll figure something out. I’ll be there.” 

Kurt listens. He decides maybe he’ll just let Blaine do what he does best right now, which is make him feel happy, and loved, and not alone. 

“Five hundred ninety-three miles…” Blaine is saying. “That’s a lot of miles. We should really do something about that.” 

“We could eliminate the state of Pennsylvania?” 

“That would definitely help.” 

They laugh for way too long at that, so hard that Kurt’s afraid he might wake up Rachel. 

And then it’s quiet again and Kurt just listens to Blaine for a moment, to his soft intake of breath, and wonders for a second how on earth he had ever stopped doing this. How he’d ever convinced himself it was okay to put distance between them _on purpose_.

“I’m sorry it’s so far, too,” Kurt says after a moment. 

“I know. But we’re going to be okay.”

Blaine says it with certainty, like he’s seen the future or something. 

“How can you be so sure? Because we both think there are too many miles between Ohio and the center of the known universe?” 

“I can’t explain it. I just _know_. I can feel it. That’s why I asked you to marry me.” 

Kurt is quiet for a second. There’s a very real sense of clarity that descends on him in that moment. For once, everything feels uncomplicated, honest, and certain. The feeling is big – _oh, there you are_ – and it doesn’t leave room for anything else, it crowds the noise out and leaves a calm silence in its place.

“Well,” Kurt says. “I guess that’s a good thing, because… I’m pretty sure that’s why I said yes.” 


	2. Chapter 2

_September, 2013_

Before Kurt knows it, Blaine is in New York. 

It's amazing, and a little scary, and true to New York City form, everything happens really, really fast. By the time school starts up again that fall, Blaine is everywhere he looks. At his favorite coffee shop, at NYADA, in the hallways where Kurt used to call him between classes and complain about his teachers, Blaine is right there. They have the same teachers now that Blaine is a student, the same lunch spots, the same everything. 

Blaine used to be his anchor, back in Lima, used to be the person who kept him sane, when the city got to be too much. Now that he’s here, it’s a bit disorienting - Kurt wonders what’s stopping them both from just being swept up in this city together. 

Kurt feels guilty, too, because as crazy as New York can be at times, he really doesn’t miss Lima at all right now, and it’s not just because Blaine is here with him. He tries not to push the sharp, sick feeling he gets in his stomach when he’s reminded of Finn away, but it’s hard not to, sometimes. Hard not to bury it deep inside of himself, because otherwise the loss would be too much. He’s just not sure how he’d be able to handle everything else that’s going in his life right now if he didn’t set this aside. 

One thing he _is_ sure of, is how wonderful it feels having Blaine's arms - Blaine's whole body, most days - wrapped around him in his bed. Warm and soft and _right there_ , without the threat of parental figures, or anyone else walking in and interrupting them. It feels _right_. 

It feels like home, and Kurt has always loved the feeling of home. He loves that Blaine can finally be part of what that means to him here. He loves how safe he feels, how Blaine's arms create this kind of bubble around him, this sanctuary where no one can reach them. 

It quiets Kurt's fears about living in New York, about school, about missing Finn, and _marriage before thirty what on earth are they thinking_ because in the end, this is what he's always, always wanted. Freedom, and unconditional love. Someone who inspires him, in a city that inspires him, where they can both be themselves, all the time. 

**

They’re both usually up well before now, but it’s Sunday, and last night had been a late night - an Almodovar double feature down at the Film Forum. He can feel Blaine's very much still deeply asleep breath against his neck as he tries carefully to extricate himself from his arms. Blaine barely moves as Kurt rolls out of bed, and tiptoes out of the room. 

Rachel should have left an hour ago for the gym, and then rehearsal, and he has reading to catch up on - the latest issue of Italian _Vogue_ (research, essentially). There's a little surge of excitement that flares up in his chest at the thought of actually being alone in his apartment for once. Sort of alone, anyway. It's not that he doesn't love being with Blaine all the time, because he does, but there are things that he used to do that he never seems to have time for anymore. 

They're not terribly important things: curling up on the couch with a magazine, or his tablet and a couple of guilty-pleasure celebrity blogs, things that he wouldn’t necessarily carve out time to do, but that he enjoys, or used to enjoy, anyway. Turning on the TV and watching a random episode of _Project Runway_ at the end of a long day, instead of referring to a more curated list of Quality Programming. Sure, _House of Cards_ is a lot better than _Keeping up with the Kardashians_ , objectively speaking, but... Kurt is learning that there’s a certain kind of spontaneity that’s lost, living with someone like this. Especially when you live with someone and two to three other roommates in a loft in Brooklyn with no doors to speak of. 

He wouldn't trade this for the world though. It's him, and its Blaine, and they're in New York, living their dream. Well, he supposes maybe he'd trade this for a two bedroom in the West Village – just the two of them, with a balcony, and a storage unit in the basement, and a commute to midtown that didn’t take upwards of an hour on a good day. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so--

The thought disappears, because Blaine is suddenly wrapped around Kurt's neck. Well, most of him is, anyway. His arms drape around Kurt's shoulders from the back of the couch. His nose brushes against Kurt's earlobe, and when he starts dropping light kisses down his neck, Kurt feels his brain slide somewhere deep inside of him. Suddenly all he can think about are Blaine's lips, and how much he wants them on his, right now. 

"Mm," Kurt grunts astutely, as Blaine joins him on the couch. 

Their shoulders and thighs press against each other as Blaine leans in and kisses him, lazy and sweet at first and then deeper, as Kurt melts into the cushions. He breathes him in, feeling both of them come alive and awake in the space between their lips. 

"You should come back to bed," Blaine says eventually. His voice is rough, and Kurt is already pushing himself up from the couch. 

He loves how much he loves this, how turned on he is by Blaine's kiss-swollen lips, his crazy bed hair, the way his boxers frame his ass. 

**

"Morning sex really is the best," Blaine says, around the time the sun has started peeking through the shades in the kitchen, casting a small sliver of light under Kurt’s bedroom curtain. 

Kurt hums his approval into the space between them on the bed. 

"Everything is the best with you," Blaine continues, and Kurt wonders if he's blushing, wonders how it is that he hasn't become desensitized to these random, heartfelt declarations of affection yet. 

"I love being here with you." 

Blaine stares straight into Kurt’s eyes when he says this, his face is so open and honest and _bare_ , and Kurt suddenly remembers _Vogue_ and the couch, remembers that before Blaine had come and seduced him back into bed, he'd definitely been hoping to have the couch to himself for a good long while. 

He hadn’t wanted Blaine here with him; he’d wanted to be alone. 

The feeling twists inside of him, until he flops over onto his stomach. 

"I love having you here, too." Kurt knows that it's not a lie – he feels awful even thinking of using that word to describe it, but – the words don’t feel entirely truthful, either. "It sure beats waking up horny, and having to wait hours for you to drag yourself out of bed back in Ohio." 

Kurt stares at Blaine, trying to reconcile the love he feels right now, the comfort, with the excitement that’d bubbled up inside of him earlier at the prospect of an empty couch and an hour or two to himself. It doesn’t make sense, both of those things existing in his head at the same time.

"That was one weekend," Blaine says with a sigh. 

"I don't understand how anyone can sleep until noon. Ever." 

Blaine laughs, and wraps an arm around Kurt's back, leans in so close that their noses are practically touching. "It was finals week."

Instead of reminding Blaine that he easily could have aced all his finals without even opening a book, and so by “it was finals week", he probably means that he was up all night helping Sam and Tina study - he just kisses him. 

There's not much space between them to begin with, so there's not far to go, and within a breath he's turned his whole body into Blaine. The kiss goes from playful to something a little more urgent, and then to something a _lot_ more urgent, sloppy, and needy and a little desperate, in the span of about twenty seconds. 

And then Blaine is threading his fingers though Kurt's hair, whispering _hey_ against his lips, and stroking his cheek with his thumb, and Kurt kind of feels like crying. 

"I really do love having you here," Kurt says, swallowing hard past the lump in his throat that won’t go away. The way Blaine is looking at him, like _he_ might cry is not helping at all. "I think part of me was always worried that somehow this wouldn't happen. And now it has, and… I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Please just ignore me." 

Blaine smiles then, traces Kurt's cheekbone with his fingers, and pulls him close. 

“I could never ignore you,” Blaine whispers against his neck, and they hold each other there for what feels like a long time, just breathing under the covers, warm and safe. 

“And I know it’s not the same thing,” Blaine says, “but… I miss him too. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but… I’m here. Okay?” 

Kurt sniffles a little against Blaine’s shoulder. 

“Thanks,” he says, when he can find his voice again. Blaine’s hand finds his, and when he threads their fingers together, and squeezes tightly, Kurt allows the warmth to spread, until whatever he’d been feeling, all of it fades away somewhere outside of this space where it’s just him, and Blaine, and the warm press of Blaine’s skin against his body. 

"I feel like I should be thanking you," Blaine says after another minute. They're lying next to each other now, staring up into the high ceiling. 

"For what?"

"For being here. For letting me be here with you. For being you." 

"Well, I am pretty great." Kurt agrees, smiling because he can’t help it. "But I think it might have something to do with the company I've been keeping lately. You see there’s this fabulous guy who’s just moved into town…" 

"Yeah?" Blaine’s quiet laugh lodges itself right in the center of Kurt’s chest. “Please tell me more.” 

Kurt just smiles and closes his eyes, feeling warm and happy and loved, like he's exactly where he's meant to be. 

**

Most of the time, New York Blaine is wonderful. Full of energy and encouragement and playful, happy feelings, but sometimes, he’s not. 

Kurt isn’t sure when exactly it started, or if maybe it had always been there under the surface - this insecurity, this doubt in Blaine’s eyes when he looks at him. This constant need to make sure he’s on equal footing - with Kurt, with his classmates at NYADA, with the world, sometimes. It’s as if he’s constantly reevaluating where he stands. The slightest hint of an imbalance, and Kurt can practically see the wheels turning in Blaine’s head, the doubts creeping in.

And Kurt isn’t judging him, because he understands, he really does. It’s a new city, and a new school, and an _engagement_ , and all of these things are stressful, in their own way. Kurt remembers how he felt a year ago, too - arriving here and suddenly feeling insignificant and small, swallowed up by the lightning fast pace of the city. 

But Kurt doesn't know what to do when Blaine is insecure about _them_ , about him. It makes Kurt feel like he’s doing something wrong, just by feeling okay about himself, about his place in this city, finally. It makes him defensive, and that really doesn’t help, it just makes it worse, every time. 

They argue – over Kurt’s schedule, over Blaine’s inability to be on time, over which end of the platform to board the train from in the morning, over everything, really. Sharp words, rolled eyes, silences that stretch for hours, sometimes. The apartment, for all of its sprawling, open space, starts to feel very, very small.

**

“I feel like I’m being really accommodating here, Blaine,” Kurt says, but he can’t keep the frustration out of his voice, which sort of contradicts the point he’s trying to make. 

He lets out a breath, stares at Blaine across the kitchen table, trying to reach him. Unfortunately, Blaine is decidedly _not_ reachable right now. At least not by Kurt. 

“But like I said, I’ve already rescheduled this rehearsal twice,” Kurt says.

“Okay, fine.” 

Blaine’s eyes flash with anger - Kurt is sure that whatever this is about, it doesn’t really have anything to do with whether or not they end up having dinner tomorrow night with two of Blaine’s classmates that Kurt has barely even met. It’s frustrating, and Kurt is losing his patience by the minute.

“I’ll just go by myself,” Blaine says, and Kurt tries really, really hard not to roll his eyes. 

Rachel turns up the music a notch in her room, like maybe she’s expecting an impending shouting match, and honestly, Kurt can’t really convince himself that it’s is unwarranted. 

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t go.” Kurt tries to keep his voice calm, an olive branch. 

“You don’t have to say it,” Blaine says, morosely, and that’s when Kurt just snaps. 

“Jesus, Blaine! Do you think that for once you could stop putting words in my mouth? Could we, just once, have a civilized conversation about something? One that doesn’t end with you staring at me with that ridiculous kicked-puppy look on your face?” 

He silently apologizes to Rachel. He’s sure she’s heard some version of this conversation half a dozen times over the past few weeks. 

“Sorry,” Blaine says, not sounding sorry at all. “Next time I won’t bother asking you.” 

“Oh my god.” Kurt stares at Blaine, wondering how on earth this person he is planning to marry could possibly be so clueless. “You can’t possibly think that’s going to work.” 

“What?” 

“You, trying to guilt-trip me!” 

“I’m not trying to--”

“What are you trying to do then? Piss me off? Because that’s definitely working.” 

“I just…” Blaine is staring at him a little helplessly now, and damn it if it doesn’t cut through all of Kurt’s anger, and hit him right in the stomach. The tension between them deflates, just a little.

“What?” Kurt asks, and his voice is a little calmer now, maybe even quiet enough for Rachel not to hear every word. “Please, tell me what this is really about, because I know it’s not about dinner with Todd and Stephen. You don’t even like them that much.” 

“I don’t know, Kurt. Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you. I feel like I never see you.” 

“Blaine, you live here. We go to class together every--single--day.” 

“I’m sorry,” Blaine says, and he looks like he’s about to say something else, but stops himself.

Idina Menzel’s soaring voice fills the silence. (They’re all going to her new Broadway show together next week, and Rachel’s been listening to the cast album since it came out, pretty much exclusively. Kurt’s a big fan too, but right now he’s just not in the mood.)

He sighs, and stares at Blaine, who looks like he’s about to apologize again. Sometimes when Blaine apologizes for things that he has no business apologizing for it makes Kurt angry but tonight it’s just making him sad. He reaches across the table, finds Blaine’s hand. 

They’re quiet for a second. Kurt squeezes Blaine’s fingers, waits for him to squeeze back, which he does, after another beat or two. 

“You should go to rehearsal tomorrow,” Blaine says finally, meeting Kurt’s eyes. 

“I probably should,” Kurt admits, running his thumb over Blaine’s palm, his wrist. 

“You were right,” Blaine says. “You’ve been really accommodating – I can’t expect you to change your entire schedule just because I’m here. I’ve been an idiot.” 

Kurt shakes his head. “You’re not an idiot.” 

“I’m fighting with you over something that’s not even important, so… Yeah, I am.” 

“How you feel is important,” Kurt says. “I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” Blaine says quickly, sounding defensive, and maybe a little scared. 

Kurt gets up from the table then, because he’s scared, too. Fights like this that erupt out of nowhere have always scared him, because he’s not sure what he might say that he won’t be able to take back. Or vice versa. 

With Blaine’s arms firmly wrapped around his back, and Blaine’s breath against his neck, everything feels a little easier, a little more clear. 

“I’ll reschedule rehearsal tomorrow,” Kurt says, and when Blaine starts to protest, Kurt stops him. “Let me finish. I’m rescheduling rehearsal, and you’re going to take a raincheck on dinner. We can order in from that new Thai place over by the park, and watch a movie. Okay?”

“Are you sure?” 

“You’re right. We haven’t had much time to ourselves lately. I know my schedule has been crazy.” 

It’s a textbook reconciliation, really, where both parties realize that they were wrong, and no one really has to compromise anything. He suspects that it shouldn’t really be this easy, but it feels like _something_ , that it ends up like this, with Kurt stifling a gasp as Blaine’s tongue finds its way to his neck, his heart pounding in his chest and his blood rushing to all the right places. 

“At least you guys can still kiss and make up,” Rachel announces a few minutes later as she walks into the kitchen, and then immediately turns to head back to her room when she sees the rather compromising position Kurt has gotten himself into, his back pressed against the refrigerator, and Blaine’s hands creeping up under the edge of his shirt.

And Kurt thinks that yeah, Rachel may really be on to something. Because this—Blaine’s cool hands against his stomach, fingers lightly brushing against his ribcage until he squirms, and has no choice but to bury his hands in Blaine’s hair, and crush their lips together… This has to be a good sign.

**

Blaine doesn’t settle in with time though, the way Kurt had hoped he would. He doesn’t become less anxious, or more sure of his place the longer he’s here. They’re fighting too much, and it’s wearing them both down. They don’t always kiss and make up anymore. 

Going home has started to feel tiring and stressful, and before he knows it, Kurt is standing on the High Line, staring out over the Hudson River, asking himself questions that he really never thought he’d be asking himself, until it starts to feel like an ultimatum. 

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s been by himself for this long.

He _loves_ Blaine. He wants to spend the rest of his life with Blaine, but being with him in this apartment is really not working right now. And admitting that this is actually happening feels like admitting to a much bigger problem that Kurt just can’t reconcile with what he feels in his heart right now. 

Because his heart misses Blaine and it’s only been three hours since he stormed out of the apartment to say god-knows-what to Elliott. Kurt had come out here under the pretense of clearing his head, though he’s not sure that’s what’s happening at all. The longer he’s here, the more ridiculous everything starts to seem. 

They’d never really talked about whether or not Blaine would move in with him after graduation. He honestly doesn’t even remember which one of them mentioned it first – at the time, it hadn’t really seemed like there was any other option that made sense. If they had been making a huge mistake, or rushing into things, it certainly hadn’t felt like it. 

They’re engaged, and living together – both of these things are not things that Kurt has ever questioned wanting. He thought New York would be the beginning of their happily ever after. 

His dad told him once that no great romance ever came without a price, without some heartache. He’d told him this after he and Blaine had broken up last year, and Kurt had just sort of assumed that the break-up had been the price. 

Looking back, he feels naïve. They were kids then, but they’re still kids now. He wonders why he was so convinced that everything would be perfect in New York. Kurt misses that _anything can happen, it’s us against the world_ feeling he’d had saying yes to Blaine on a staircase at Dalton Academy. 

He doesn’t know where that feeling has gone, but today, staring out at the river, as the sun sinks down over the city, he’s not sure he even knows where to look anymore.

**

“It’s going to be fine,” Blaine tells him, much later, and lying here like this, with so many inches of Blaine’s naked body pressed against his skin, still trying to catch his breath after what may actually have been the best make-up sex ever, Kurt is inclined to believe him. 

“It’ll be good for both of us. You need to explore the city on your own, find your own groove,” Kurt agrees, as Blaine presses his nose against his collarbone, and lets out a long breath. 

It’s essentially the same conversation they’d had earlier (after Kurt had returned from the High Line, and Blaine had finally come back to the apartment) only naked, and Kurt finds that being naked helps a lot. The knot in his stomach has loosened, and he doesn’t feel quite so much like crying, at least. This, really, is going to be fine. 

Blaine will move out, and nothing else between them will change. They’ll figure out whatever this is that’s going on between them, and then he’ll move back in, or they’ll find their own place, together, and it will all be fine, just like Blaine had said. This will make them stronger.

“I’ll find something small,” Blaine tells him, his face still pressed to Kurt’s chest. “And then after the wedding, we’ll look for the perfect place together.” 

“Bushwick is definitely not perfect.” 

Blaine chuckles, and Kurt runs his fingers over his shoulder. There’s an uneasiness that he can feel creeping in to his body that he wants more than anything to keep at bay. Blaine picks up his head, and turns over on his back. Kurt props himself up on an elbow, still close enough that he can feel the heat from Blaine’s skin against his arm. 

“You know, I probably should have told you that I can be a little crazy about personal space before you moved in.” It’s meant to be a peace offering, but as soon as the words leave his mouth, they feel wrong. 

“You’re not crazy.” 

“Come on, Blaine. I pretty much set myself up for that one, you can admit it.” 

“I don’t want to.” And just like that, the knot in Kurt’s stomach is back. 

“Sorry,” Blaine says, and Kurt hates the tension he can already hear in his voice. “Do we have to keep talking about this? I know I started it, but now I wish we could go back to the part where we just lie here, thinking about the amazing sex we just had.”

Kurt’s lips curl up at that. “It was pretty amazing.” 

“It’s _always_ amazing.” 

It’s meant to be light, Kurt knows it is, but Blaine sounds sad, and a little defensive, and Kurt just lies back and stares up at the ceiling, wondering if anything will ever be okay again.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says, because he is, because he wants to fix this, even though he knows that trying to fix this is exactly what got them here in the first place. 

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, Kurt.”

“Well, I’m sorry anyway, okay?”

“Fine.” Blaine’s voice is quiet and small in the darkness. “But I’m sorry too. I really hope you know that.”

Kurt isn’t sure if he knows anything anymore, to be honest, but he tells Blaine _of course_ anyway, before he reaches down and finds his hand. He squeezes it and runs his thumb over Blaine’s palm until Blaine looks at him. And then he kisses him, deep and slow, until the rhythm becomes something he recognizes, until Blaine’s hands are buried in his hair, until it feels familiar again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :) Feedback is always greatly appreciated - especially since I'm new to the fandom, I'd love to hear any thoughts on how this comes off.


	3. Chapter 3

_April, 2014_

It’s finally spring, and the city is thawing out, opening its windows after months of being shut up behind closed doors. There’s grass in the park up the street, bright green and beautiful in the sun, and the last time Kurt walked through Central Park, there were flowers blooming along the reservoir. Everything around him feels bright and sunny and new.

There’s a plum blossom tree on the way to the subway that Kurt takes a picture of on his way to class one morning. The pink flowers are brilliant in the early morning light. Even on his cell phone, the contrast against the light blue of the sky is striking. He’s one touch away from sending the image to Blaine, before he stops himself. 

It’s not that he expects Blaine will read anything into it, or that there’s really anything to read into in the first place, but… A month ago, this was a tree on _their_ block, on their way to the train, on their way to school. It’s something else now, and that realization brings a lump to Kurt’s throat, and a wave of longing that he has a hard time shaking off.

Blaine has assured Kurt that he's okay with all of this – has reminded him that it was _his decision_ to move out in the first place, that this will make them stronger in the long run. Kurt believes this, too, and he’s grateful to Rachel, and to his dad, and to everyone else, for how easy they’ve made this on them, for how little explaining they’ve had to do.

But sometimes none of that matters. Even if Kurt still sees Blaine all the time, and talks to him all the time, and even if objectively speaking, it’s just this one thing between them that’s changed - sometimes it just hurts, not having him around. 

**

“I know it’s probably not my place to say this,” Rachel says, sliding the door to the loft open. “But I really kind of miss Blaine.” 

“Rachel,” Kurt warns, but there’s no real bite to it, though part of him really does hope she’ll just drop it. 

He's had a hard enough time convincing himself that this self-imposed distance between them is working, let alone someone else. Let alone Rachel, who will see through him in about two seconds. 

She tosses her purse (Kate Spade from last season - not one of Kurt’s favorites) onto the couch and collapses down next to it.

“I know, I know - I’m sorry,” Rachel tells him, her face sympathetic. “But you have to admit, he gives the best shoulder rubs.” 

Kurt smiles at that, hangs his jacket by the door. 

“Makes the best hot chocolate, too,” he reminds her. He watches as she closes her eyes, as if she’s reveling in the memory.

“Oh my god, yes. Even if I did have to remind him twice to make mine with almond milk.” 

Kurt sighs as he joins Rachel on the couch. There are a lot of things that Blaine is very good at, and Kurt misses every single one of them, every single day.

“Sometimes I think I should just tell him to move back in, already.” 

There’s a surprising little thrill that rushes up in Kurt’s chest, just saying those words out loud.

Rachel kicks off her shoes and tucks her feet up next to Kurt’s. “So why don’t you?”

“Really, Rachel?” 

“What?” 

Her eyes are wide and innocent, and Kurt just shakes his head.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why not? I know you miss him too.” 

“Of course I do,” Kurt says quickly, and sure enough, there’s Blaine puttering around in the kitchen, rearranging the wine glasses or the serving spoons or the measuring bowls for the third time in as many days, or apologizing against Kurt’s earlobe in the middle of the night, because he knows that no matter how quiet he is when he gets up to pee, Kurt will always wake up. 

Yes, there are quite a few very specific things that Kurt misses about Blaine right now. And he still has those things, of course, just not quite so easily, not every day, or every night, not right next to him, not right now. 

“Missing Blaine is just… It’s not the point,” Kurt says finally, blinking at Rachel. “The point is that we decided we were going to do this right, this time.” 

“It’s really very mature of you.” Rachel nods, raises her eyebrows in appreciation. 

“Thank you,” he says, though the last thing he feels anymore is good about this decision. 

He glances at the clock. _Late_ , he thinks, and lets out a long breath. He’s tense, and he’s tired, and it’s not just because he’s spent the day racing around the city, from class to rehearsal, and back to class again. Fighting with Blaine every day had been exhausting, but this cautious uncertainty that seems to creep into his every thought is exhausting too. He shakes his head, looks up at Rachel. 

“Honestly, I have no idea what we’re doing. I mean, we promised each other that we wouldn’t go backwards. But that’s exactly what this is, right?” 

“I don’t know, Kurt. Maybe,” she admits, and then quickly turns to face him. “But that doesn’t mean it’s a permanent thing! It doesn’t mean you can’t fix it.” 

“I don’t understand why we can’t stop screwing everything up,” Kurt says, and the look that flashes across Rachel’s face makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. “Please don’t look at me like that. This relationship has been screwed up about as long as it hasn’t by now.” 

“That’s not true.” Rachel’s eyes soften, she nudges Kurt with her shoulder. “Honestly, I’ve always thought you guys were perfect together.” 

The statement sounds so honest, so pure, and Kurt really, really wants to believe it. He does believe it, he realizes. He’s just not sure if believing is enough.

He sniffles – there are frustrated tears just under the surface, threatening. They’ve been there ever since Rachel said Blaine’s name, and started this whole thing.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admits. “Sometimes I feel like he’s waiting for me to tell him he can come back, like I’ve sent him away for bad behavior or something.” 

“But he seems happy at Mercedes’ place, right?” 

“Of course he seems happy.” Kurt lets out a bitter laugh. “If I have to listen to him tell me one more time how wonderful and perfect and convenient it is living in Prospect Park, I’m going to strangle him.” 

“Well, hopefully it won’t come to that.” 

Kurt sucks in a long breath, trying to pull himself together. He stares at Rachel, wishing she would just tell him what he wants to hear already, even though he’s not even sure what that is anymore. He’s frustrated with himself for not being able to figure this out, and with Blaine, too, for acting like this is all going so well, like he couldn’t be happier.

“I really love him, Rachel,” Kurt says, trying to keep his voice steady. “And he’s so _good_. He’s a good person, and he’s really good for me. Whatever’s going on with us now, that doesn’t change the fact that he _knows_ me, and gets me, and that we’re great together, right? Please tell me I’m not crazy.” 

“You’re only a little crazy,” Rachel teases. “And Blaine is the _best_ for you. You don’t need me to tell you that.” 

Rachel grabs his hand and squeezes it, and the look in her eyes is thoughtful, maybe even a little wise-beyond-her-years, if he squints. Rachel is a lot of things, but Kurt knows that she’s also an observant friend, and she’s known Kurt and Blaine a long time. She’s seen them through good and bad times before. 

“And in the long run,” Rachel says, squeezing his hand again, “I don’t think it’s going to matter how many fights you had about rehearsals running late, or what to cook for dinner, or anything else. And I don’t think it’s going to matter that you lived apart for a few months back when you were engaged. What matters is that you love each other. Right?” 

Kurt nods, but doesn’t trust his voice right away. 

“Right now, I think you just need to relax, and let it go. See how you both feel a few weeks from now.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says finally. “You’re probably right.”

“I’m always right,” Rachel says, smiling wide, and Kurt thinks that for once, he won’t roll his eyes, he’ll just go ahead and believe her. “And you know, he really loves you, too.”

Kurt just nods, and is surprised to find her studying him seriously. 

“At the hospital,” she says, “before you woke up, you know he never left your side for a second. Sam had to remind him to eat. Brought him these horrible little donut things from the vending machine.”

Kurt smiles a little. Blaine had been so sweet and caring and gentle, afterwards. It’s pretty much the only thing worth smiling about, when it comes to those couple of days. “He told me he was ready to say he was my brother, if anyone gave him any trouble.” 

It was one of the first things Blaine had said to him after he woke up. Kurt’s memory from that day is a cloudy haze of dull pain and too-bright lights, and Blaine, promising he’d be right there, assuring Kurt that he wasn’t going anywhere, no matter what. He’d made Kurt promise to corroborate his brother story, should it come to that. It hadn’t, but Blaine’s determination had surprised him - had impressed him, really.

“Well, he barely said a word to any of us,” Rachel says. “He was completely focused on you. I think he would have stayed there for a week if he had to.”

Kurt tries to blink them away, but it doesn’t work - he has to wipe a couple of tears from his cheek as he tries to smile. “Are you sure you’re trying to make me feel better?”

“Just trying to give you a little perspective.” 

“Thanks,” Kurt says, leaning into her embrace as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, warm and solid, and exactly what he needs. “I have no idea what I’d do without you sometimes.” 

**

Keeping things in perspective is a lot easier said than done, of course. 

It’s a Sunday night, and they’re at one of Rachel’s never-ending Broadway after-parties. Kurt has probably had one too many glasses of champagne, and conveniently, Blaine doesn't seem to have much of an off-switch lately either. 

He’s not sloppy-drunk yet, just a little, and just a little, as it happens, turns Kurt on a _lot_. The way Blaine gets all handsy with him in public drives him crazy, and the way his eyes go dark when Kurt runs a hand up his thigh under the table just makes him want to do more, to go further. 

The back booth of the bar isn't quite as dark as they'd like it to be, but neither of them really hesitate, they both just lean in to each other's faces after a while and go at it. It's messy and noisy, and when Kurt slides his hand up and under the edge of Blaine's polo shirt he feels Blaine's stomach clench under his fingers and it's like a shot of adrenaline in Kurt's veins. He _wants_ \--

" _Shit_ , Kurt," Blaine is saying, against his chin, his neck. It's making Kurt dizzy, the feel of Blaine's breath, the warmth of his hands on his waist. 

And then Blaine is pulling him up and out of the booth, and Kurt realizes that they're going to do this _in a public restroom_ and wow, the things that does to him right now - it's a little scary. He tries to remember how many drinks he's had, because the room is kind of spinning, but Blaine has his hand, has his arm around Kurt’s waist, and he’s weaving them fairly efficiently through the sea of people between their table and the back of the bar. 

And then they're in the bathroom, and Kurt's thinking they need to be careful, discreet – but then his back is pressed up against the stall door and Blaine hands are all over him, and it’s really hard to think straight. 

Before he can even fumble the door locked behind his back, Blaine's hands are deftly undoing his belt, and then Blaine is on his knees. The universe tilts on its axis then, and Kurt just closes his eyes to it, tries to ground himself. But Blaine is going all out down there and it's making fireworks go off all over Kurt's body. He's _trembling_ for god's sake - it's like his whole body is humming, or god, no, that's _Blaine_ , and he's so close and--

"Oh my god," Kurt says as he opens his eyes and tries to breathe. Suddenly he sees this situation for what it is. 

Really, really hot, he'll give Blaine that, because staring down at this man on his knees, polo shirt unbuttoned all the way to the second button, face flushed, his tongue darting out of that pretty, pretty mouth is nothing if not _hot_ \- but it's also just so _dirty_. And not in a good way. 

"Oh god, I can't do this in here," Kurt says, stumbling a little as he tries to pull up his pants. Blaine reluctantly stands up, and like a magnet, attaches himself to Kurt's side, breathing against his neck, lips brushing against his earlobe. 

"It is a little gross," Blaine says with a sigh that sends a chill down Kurt's spine. 

"Yeah, let's go home," Kurt says, and the second the word is out of his mouth he freezes. Blaine does too, Kurt feels his body tense against him. "I mean-- We should-- Your place is--" 

"Yeah," Blaine says quickly. “Okay.” And he's reaching around Kurt to unlock the door before Kurt is even able to focus on his face. "I'll go first." 

The rest of the bathroom is still empty. As far as Kurt knows, no one else has come in, but he still appreciates Blaine's attempt at decency. Or he would, if the fake smile on Blaine's face didn't feel like a very sharp knife lodged in his chest. 

"I’ll meet you outside." Kurt keeps hearing Blaine’s voice in his head, even after the door closes behind him. 

The wave of utter sadness that washes over Kurt in the next moment is almost enough to make his knees weak. He knows he's had a little too much to drink tonight, but what he's feeling now is sobering, if anything. He suddenly wishes they’d gone in for another round. Because it hits him right then. Blaine isn't _home_ anymore. They had broken that, and he's not even sure why anymore. But the look in Blaine's eyes just now, that horrible fake smile... It's too much. 

Kurt quickly tucks everything back into place, and pushes open the stall door. He doesn't bother glancing in the mirror; he knows he’s a mess. 

Outside the bathroom, he starts to make his way through the sea of people again, and suddenly Rachel is there. 

"I just saw Blaine," she says, standing in front of him, looking exhausted, but in that happy, post-performance blissed out way that Kurt hasn’t felt in forever. “He was on his way outside.”

“Hey." Rachel grabs his hand a second later. "You okay? You look...not-okay." 

"I'm fine," Kurt says, forcing a smile. "Too much champagne." 

She grins, like he’s let her in on a secret. "Well, as long as Blaine gets you home in one piece, I won't tell anyone..." 

**

He finds Blaine outside - around the corner from the crowd of smokers gathered around the front entrance. He’s sitting on his heels, rocking back and forth a little, full of nervous energy. His expression is blank. When he hears Kurt's voice, he bounces up. 

"Everything okay? I was about to come look for you," Blaine says, leaning in with concern. A hand on Kurt’s shoulder. A glint in Blaine's eyes that says _are we okay_ and the wave of sadness is back, because since when does Blaine have to wonder that so much Kurt can recognize it on his face, in his eyes. 

"I'm fine. Ran into Rachel," Kurt explains. He doesn't know what else to say. Suddenly, out here in the brisk night air everything seems exposed. He's not sure why that's so terrifying, but it makes him keep his mouth shut all the same. 

"So, um--" 

"Your place is closer," Kurt says without meeting Blaine's eyes. "And I don't have class until ten." 

"Okay," Blaine says. He opens his mouth, closes it. Paints on a smile. "Let's go then."

"Don't," Kurt says when Blaine tries to weave their fingers together. They stop in the middle of the sidewalk. A tall guy in a leather jacket jostles past them, smelling like a liquor store. Blaine just stares at Kurt, resigned, hurt. 

"Okay, this," Kurt says. " _This_ how I want you to look at me." Confusion flashes over Blaine's face. "Don't ever fake a smile at me again, okay? I can tell. I can always tell. And it _hurts_." 

Kurt's realizes that he's crying. Ugly wet tears are dripping off his nose, his chin. He swipes the back of his hand across his face angrily.

"I'm sorry," Blaine is saying. "I'm trying really hard to--"

"Well, I don't want you to try, okay? I want you to be honest with me." 

Kurt realizes that he's raising his voice, that he sounds shrill and panicky, which he figures is fine, because that's exactly how he feels right now. 

"This _is_ me being honest, Kurt. I’m sorry, but I don't think I know what you want from me." 

"I want you to tell me when something is wrong. If I hurt you. If I’m wrong about something important, I want you to _tell_ me." 

"Okay. I think I do that. Or at least I try to." 

They're walking again, making progress towards Blaine's place, and Kurt wipes the last of the tears off his face, trying to keep it together. Trying not to be that couple, fighting on the street in the middle of the night. 

"I'm tired of you putting such a positive spin on everything," Kurt says, as they climb the stairs to Mercedes' walk-up. 

"Okay..." 

"It's your worst quality," Kurt mumbles. 

Recognition blooms on Blaine's face. "Hey, isn't that from--" 

They’d seen _If/Then_ on Broadway a few weeks ago with Rachel - it’s a stupid quote, and Kurt kind of hates how quickly Blaine gets the reference. How it disarms him, just a little, because it feels familiar, and safe and easy. It’s everything Kurt has always loved about loving Blaine, and it’s not enough, because he still feels terrible.

"Yes,” Kurt says, clenching his jaw, not smiling. “Now shut up." 

They're inside now, and the weight of everything seems to fall back on Kurt’s shoulders in an instant. They sit, facing each other on Blaine's bed. Kurt stares at his hands, at the bedspread, anywhere but Blaine's face. And then Blaine grabs his hand. Rubs his thumb over Kurt’s wrist.

"What's going on?" Blaine asks. "I thought we were good, I thought this was working." 

Kurt swallows, thinks of any number of things he could/should say right now, and somehow settles on, "I miss you." 

He feels Blaine squeeze his hand. Watches Blaine's head drop a little, watches him cover his eyes with his other hand. Hears him sniffle. He forces himself to meet Blaine's eyes. 

"Do you miss me?" Kurt asks and at first Blaine just stares at him for a moment, and then his eyes cloud over. 

"Yes," he says quietly. "Yes, Kurt, I miss you. All the time." 

"But?" 

"But I'm trying to do the right thing. We both are. Aren't we?" 

"I hope so," Kurt says. "I'm not sure," he admits, and he can feel new tears springing up behind his eyes. He turns away from Blaine, buries his face in his elbow for a second. He lets out a nervous laugh. "Please never let me have more than two drinks again." 

Blaine laughs, and then he pulls Kurt into a tight hug, and doesn't let go. To Kurt's back, Blaine says, "I didn't want to say anything because I was afraid you'd think I was pushing for something. And I'm not. But of course I miss you." Blaine's grip tightens. "And Kurt, believe me, I’m trying not to dwell on it, because I know how strong you are, but seeing you in that hospital bed… It really kind of freaked me out. No matter what I just—I don’t want to lose you." 

"I'm right here," Kurt says, and shifts so that he can see Blaine's face. "We're getting married," Kurt says. "I--we—we _love_ each other. I’m sitting here sobbing my heart out to you. You know how much I hate that." 

Blaine lets out a shaky laugh. "Well, you can always blame it on the champagne..." 

Kurt narrows his eyes. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." 

Blaine leans in, presses their foreheads together. His hands rest on Kurt's neck, steadying them. 

"We're going to be okay, right?" 

"Better than okay," Kurt says, and the first time in a while, he actually feels okay. He focuses on Blaine’s hands, on his fingers against the base of his neck. Every time Blaine breathes, every time his fingers move, even a tiny bit, Kurt feels the hairs on his arms react, feels it all the way down his spine. 

"Yeah,” Blaine says. “And in the future, I promise not to be nearly as positive about any of this." 

Kurt laughs. "You know that’s not what I--" 

"I know,” Blaine says, and he presses a quick kiss to Kurt's lips. Then, seriously, “I'll be more honest. I promise." 

"Me, too," Kurt says, before he presses a not-at-all quick kiss to Blaine's lips, which part easily, and before he knows it, they’ve pretty much picked up where they left off in the bathroom. 

Kurt is grateful - he’s not sure how much more talking he had in him tonight, and kissing Blaine, losing himself in Blaine’s touch, in the warm press of Blaine’s body against his has always been nothing if not _easy_.

**

It doesn’t take long for Kurt to figure out that Blaine will likely be moving back in sooner rather than later, at least if the time Blaine spends at the loft (at Kurt’s encouragement, at his _demand_ sometimes) is any indication. And Kurt knows that this is a good thing – that it’s what they both want. He really doesn’t know what he was thinking, anymore. It’s stopped making sense, wanting more space, when all he does is miss Blaine now that he has it. And especially with Rachel’s L.A. plans starting to take shape, it feels like the time is right. 

There’s a very familiar fear that takes hold sometimes though, somewhere between Kurt’s head, and his heart. It creeps in late at night when Blaine isn't there, and the space next to him in bed is empty. Kurt spends hours and hours sometimes, staring up at the ceiling until the silence starts to feel heavy, and dark, and he forces his brain to stop, to sleep.

He’s not afraid that Blaine will cheat on him again. He’s come to terms with that – he trusts Blaine. It’s not perfect, and it’s not always easy, but he’s made his choice. 

He’s not angry anymore, either. He had been, had been blindingly, _fiercely_ angry, when he’d found out about June, and the showcase, but… He also understands. Especially since he moved out, Blaine has seemed laser-focused on giving Kurt exactly what he wants, all the time. The showcase had been a thing that Kurt had really wanted, and Blaine had wanted to give it to him. He understands. Anger fades. 

It’s the things that don’t fade that worry him, that keep him up at night. 

**

"Okay,” Rachel says one night after Blaine has gone back to his place, and after Kurt has wandered into her bedroom, complaining about not being able to sleep for the third night in a row. “I’ll play devil’s advocate if you want me to. Why did you say yes? Why did you agree to marry Blaine?" 

They migrate to the couch, and curl up together under the soft grey plaid blanket he'd stolen from Blaine's apartment last month. Well, he didn’t steal it so much as he’d asked Blaine to bring it over, and then he refused to let him take it home. He likes having part of him here. Besides, all the soft, fuzzy ones he used to steal from Rachel are packed away by this point. The California deal hasn’t even been finalized yet, but Rachel’s had one foot out the door for a while.

"Because I love him," Kurt says finally, staring at the blanket. 

He thinks about Blaine last year, back in Lima, telling him over and over again that he knows that they’ll be okay in the end, that this is why he proposed. 

"Because I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with him." 

“Okay, what’s the problem then?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt says, but his heart catches in his throat. 

He _does_ want to spend the rest of his life with Blaine; he doesn’t doubt that - he can’t imagine anything else for himself, but… He’s been thinking about it a lot lately, and he’s not sure if that’s why he said yes on that staircase. He’s not sure if that’s why Blaine proposed, either. He thinks it might have been more complicated than that. 

“Sometimes I wonder what we’re both so afraid of,” he says to Rachel. He feels old – older than the last time they had this conversation, anyway. He’s had too much time to think, maybe. Everything is scary, all of the sudden – it’s like he’s lost the ability to just _feel_ what’s in his heart, without worrying about what it means, without worrying about the consequences. “It never used to be this scary, you know?”

He looks up at Rachel and her eyes are sad, far away. 

"I was scared, too, you know," she says quietly. “With Finn.”

Kurt feels a rush of guilt. He knows how hard Rachel is trying to move on, to start over. He waits a second, and then says, carefully, “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

Rachel shakes her head. “It’s okay. This is something that’s been on my mind for a while.” 

She looks at him, and her eyes are dark and serious. 

"Kurt, when you love someone like you love Blaine, I think maybe…you lose part of yourself,” Rachel says, and Kurt feels that familiar fear, solid and cold in his chest. “Maybe it’s the price you pay for being able to give them your love, I don’t know. But I think there comes a point when you have to decide if you're okay with that. If it's worth it. You have to decide if it’s the right time in your life to give that up.”

“I wasn’t ready,” Rachel says, simply. “And I thought I’d have another chance, but I didn’t, and I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how things might have been different, if I’d taken that chance when I had it.”

Kurt stares at her for what feels like forever. He knows that Rachel had always believed that she and Finn would end up together in the end - she’d told Kurt more than once that she was okay with their time apart, because it was what they needed, and that they’d make up for it later. Of course you never know exactly how much time you have, in the end. His father had taught him that, too. 

“I’m so sorry, Rachel.” 

He doesn’t know what else to say – he feels as ill-equipped as he ever has when it comes to talking about Finn; he never has any idea what to say to someone in a situation like this. He doesn't even realize that he's crying until Rachel slides closer to him, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. Her voice is quiet as she assures him that she’s okay, that they’re both okay. He feels ridiculous – he should be the one comforting her, but he just can’t stop crying.

"It's not okay though," Kurt says. "I miss him," he says fervently, like he’s trying to prove something, which is ridiculous. He’s not sure if he means Finn, or Blaine, or both of them, and then he realizes that it doesn’t matter.

He pulls the blanket up to his chin. It smells like Blaine's hair gel and it makes Kurt’s chest ache. "You know I stole this blanket from Blaine, because when he's not here, I can't stand feeling like he's completely gone. That's..." he sniffles. "That's really pathetic." 

Rachel shakes her head. “It’s not pathetic. It just means you’re human, that you care.” 

“I care,” Kurt says, sniffling again. “Of course I care, it’s _Blaine_.” 

She smiles, squeezes his shoulder. "So why don’t you ask him to move back? It sounds like maybe it’s time. If everything goes well, I’ll be gone in a few weeks – you guys will have the whole place to yourselves.” 

"I already did, actually. I mean, we’ve talked about it. We were going to tell you together. Once we made it official." 

Rachel smiles. “I think that’s wonderful. And I have no idea why you’re still crying, because it’s obviously what you want.”

“It is,” Kurt says. Rachel hands him a tissue, which he uses to wipe his face off with as much grace as he can manage. “I’m afraid I’ll ruin it.” 

Rachel shakes her head. “You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” Kurt says, because he really doesn’t. It felt right when they talked about it– felt like a natural decision, but… He knows that when it comes down to it, this is their second try. The pressure is on. If it doesn’t work this time, they’ll know for sure. He pulls his knees to his chest. 

“Ready for what?” Rachel asks.

“I don’t know – to do this, to start the rest of my life. To get married. It still feels like we’re too young.” 

“So talk to him about it.” 

“I have. I will, it’s just…”

“You don’t want to disappoint him,” Rachel supplies, and then shakes her head. “You won’t. Blaine loves you.” 

“And I really, really love him,” Kurt says, and looks over at Rachel, a little helplessly.

“I know you do,” she says, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “That’s why I know it’ll be fine.” 

“I’ve always loved Blaine, Rachel. It wasn’t enough before.” 

“That’s exactly why you have to keep trying,” Rachel says. “I think that’s how you know it’s really worth it.”

“It’s everything I’ve ever wanted,” Kurt says, and like it always does when he imagines his future with Blaine, his heart flutters a little, a tiny little spike of hope in his chest. “Of course it’s worth it.” 

**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and for sticking with me so far. The next couple of chapters have been the hardest for me to write, because even though there's a lot that I really want to explore, the fangirl in my heart just wants to skip to the happy ending? ;) But obviously there's some unhappiness to come before that - and I hope that you'll keep reading. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated :)


	4. Chapter 4

_May, 2014_

 

When Rachel moves out, and Blaine moves back in, at first, it’s as if everything has been filtered through a lens of hope, of starting over, of _this is where we belong, where we’re meant to be_. It feels good – like they’re finally back on track, like they’ve finally arrived.

They incorporate some of Blaine’s ideas for interior design – which aren’t _all_ horrible – and for the first time, it starts to feel like their apartment, not Kurt’s apartment, or Kurt-and-Rachel’s apartment, but _theirs_.  


They go to the farmer’s market at Fort Green and buy fresh cut flowers, and organic vegetables, and homemade soap. They talk about painting the bathroom, just for fun. There’s not much to work with, with so much exposed brick, but Blaine comes up with some fairly ingenious ideas about fabric that might work for curtains, and then they could paint the trim to match, at least.

They watch art films at the Nighthawk, and go to plays, off Broadway and off-off Broadway, whatever they can afford and still manage to pay the rent on time. Sometimes they go dancing at the Pyramid Club, usually on 80’s night. 

They try new restaurants – it’s much easier to get a reservation now that it’s just the two of them, and when Kurt works evening shifts at the diner, some nights Blaine takes a table at the back, alone, or with June in tow, until Kurt clocks out. On the subway, they hold hands and share one set of earbuds to block out the crazy homeless guy who won’t stop shouting, or the bible-thumpers handing out pamphlets and quoting scripture. 

But there’s also a wedding to plan, and for it to happen by the beginning of September, there’s a lot that needs to be done in not a lot of time. The whole idea that this wedding really is happening, and happening _soon_ , becomes much more solid, more real, as the days start to lengthen, and spring turns into summer. 

For his part, Kurt spends a lot of time thinking about weddings in general, and not that much time thinking about _their_ wedding, the one that’s staring both of them in the face, demanding time and attention and _money_. Instead, Kurt finds himself thinking about his dad and Carole – how they didn’t waste any time at all getting married after they met, and how perfect that had been for them.

He thinks about Rachel and Finn, too, remembers how fiercely opposed to their plan he’d been – not because he didn’t believe that they loved each other, or didn’t think they were right for each other, but because they were so _young_ , because it felt like they were rushing into something because they couldn’t bear to let go. 

He had felt so strongly about it at the time, can still feel the sting of it in his chest, sitting there at City Hall, waiting, wondering if he should be the _speak now or forever hold your peace_ protester, and knowing that in the end, he just couldn’t do that to Finn, or to Rachel. 

He feels less strongly about it, now knowing that there hadn’t been another chance for them. 

Kurt finds himself lost in nostalgic thought, sometimes, remembers watching Blaine lead the Warblers with such confidence and swagger, feeling proud and jealous, but mostly _proud_ , that he’d somehow managed to get this boy’s attention and _keep_ it. He remembers walking back to his car with Blaine, his heart jumping in his chest at the prospect of a few minutes pressed against the door with Blaine’s lips against his; remembers the thrill of holding hands with Blaine at the Lima Mall, giddy (and maybe a little anxious, too – this was Ohio, after all) at the thought of people seeing them together. He remembers the way Blaine used to call out to him over cups of coffee at the Lima Bean, so intent and focused, as if he didn’t stand out to Kurt like a bright, shining star already, as if it was even possible for Blaine to be in the same general vicinity as Kurt, and Kurt not notice. 

And Kurt still feels all of those things for Blaine, but… It’s different, now. They’re engaged. There’s an endless list of things tied to that that need to happen - most of them should have been done, well, yesterday. They need to secure a venue for their wedding, so that they can send out invitations, so that the people they love can actually have enough time to plan a trip, so they can come and bear witness to their vows, to their love. 

This is bigger than just the two of them, now. It’s jarring, thinking of it that way, knowing that this is actually happening – that they’re letting people in to see this, to witness this thing between them. It makes Kurt feel exposed in a way that he hasn’t been, up until now.

There’s something frantic in the way Blaine talks about the wedding, too, as if the event itself is the really important accomplishment here – getting to it, making it happen, making it perfect. And of course it has to be perfect – it’s their _wedding_ , but he can’t shake the feeling that maybe it feels frantic because it _is_ , because that’s what happens when you try to skip ahead, when all you allow yourself to see is the finish line. 

Sometimes he wishes they could slow down, not necessarily to delay what’s inevitable for them, but to appreciate where they are right now. 

**

It's late on a Friday night, and outside the club the air is almost cool. The night is inky black, no moon at all up in the sky, and of course there are no stars, because they’re in the middle of the city. Kurt is relaxed and happy, his limbs feather-light, free. 

Under Kurt’s discerning eye, Blaine is profoundly beautiful in the glow of the streetlights. His cheeks are glowing, and his hair has long since escaped its gel-related confines. He’s confident and sexy and Kurt is overcome for a moment with pride. This man is _his_. Will be for a long, long time to come. 

“We should go on a date,” Kurt says, apropos of nothing, draping his arm over Blaine’s shoulder, and breathing in deeply. 

Blaine still smells good, even after two sweaty hours in a club where they’d danced and danced until Blaine had whispered in his ear that it was getting late, and shouldn’t they be getting back if they wanted to wake up at a reasonable time tomorrow morning. Kurt always complained about sleeping in, and tomorrow they had yoga at nine; he’d signed them up a week ago. Blaine had been right; it was getting late. And so they’d left – another couple of blocks and they’d be home. 

“What do you mean, Kurt? A date with who?” 

“ _With you_ ,” Kurt says. He’d thought that was obvious, but he also doesn’t remember how many vodka tonics he’s had, which is to say, he’s a little drunk. This is probably not a thing he should bring up to Blaine when he’s drunk. “I’m talking about _us_.”

“Okay, well now you’ve got my attention,” Blaine says, and Kurt realizes he said most of that out loud. 

“I was just thinking,” Kurt says. His mind feels fuzzy, and a little dangerous. “About dating. We haven’t really done that. Recently. Not for very long, at least.” 

“I’m not following.”

“Never mind,” Kurt says, and ignores the confused, curious look on Blaine’s face, because to be honest, he’s not following either. His thoughts are all over the place, and he’s not sure he even wants to pin them down. Not when he could choose to just enjoy the rest of the evening, instead. The days have been warm lately, and the night air now is breezy and comfortable against his skin.

Before he knows it, they’re climbing the stairs to the loft. Blaine’s hand is warm and firm against the small of his back. Kurt doesn’t need help climbing the stairs – he’s not that far gone, but it’s nice, knowing that there’d be someone there to catch him anyway, if he lost his footing. When they get to the top of the landing, Blaine moves around him, unlocking the door, sliding it open, and closing it behind them. 

The air upstairs in the loft is warm, it rolls over Kurt in waves, makes him unsteady on his feet, just for a second. 

Blaine leads him to the bedroom, to the edge of the bed. Hangs up his jacket for him. He disappears into the kitchen and appears a second later with a glass of water. Kurt drinks it, and watches Blaine strip down to his boxers and socks. The light from the bedside lamp flickers over Blaine’s skin, as he pulls one of his soft sleep shirts on over his head. It’s grey, and well-worn, and makes Kurt think of countless nights spent curled up next to Blaine in bed, or on the couch, or on the floor, next to the couch, sometimes. Blaine looks perfect, and with no warning whatsoever, Kurt’s eyes fill with tears.

He’s too surprised to properly panic. He feels betrayed by his own thoughts, can feel them working their way to his lips. Everything feels jumbled up in his head. Rachel and Finn, sitting there at the courthouse, and Kurt, knowing they were wrong, knowing they were rushing when there was no reason to rush, except that maybe there _was_ , because now Finn is _gone_. But at the time Kurt had looked at them and thought _what’s wrong with dating, what’s wrong with enjoying each other and not pressuring yourself and risking all of it for a piece of paper_ and now that’s exactly what—

“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt says, and Blaine is right there, eyes wide, concern dancing across his features. 

“Kurt, what’s wrong?” 

“Do you think we should have dated?” Kurt asks. “For longer, I mean… Before...” Kurt makes a sweeping gesture with his hand. He means this room, New York, the past year. He means _before we decided to get married_.

“Kurt,” Blaine says, as he sits down next to him on the bed. “What are you talking about?” 

Blaine’s face appears unguarded, tilted towards Kurt’s like this – as if he’s ready for anything. 

Kurt doesn’t think he is – he thinks Blaine wants the same thing that _he_ wants, which is to protect this, to protect _them_. He also thinks that Blaine knows exactly what he’s talking about.

He thinks Blaine knows that he’s thinking about last spring, about getting back together on a blindingly bright spring day at McKinley. About how quickly they’d gotten engaged and how there was nothing in between, no time or space or anything, even though Blaine had still been in _high school_. He wonders if Blaine knows that he’s been thinking about it for a while, has been thinking about how having this ring on his finger and going out, to a movie, or a play, or going dancing in a crowded club where they can press against each other in the darkness – it’s just not the same as _dating_. 

It’s not the same as that feeling of coming alive in someone’s company, feeling electricity in their touch, in the sound of their voice, in the soft press of their skin. There’s something simple about dating, or at least that’s how he remembers it – something intimate and private, and not-stressful. Not like it is now, when every time they argue, every time Blaine looks at him, and he’s not achingly, uncomplicatedly _happy_ , Kurt wonders if maybe they’ve made a mistake. It feels awful, having to think like that about the person you love most in the entire world. 

He can’t say this to Blaine. 

Kurt stares into Blaine’s face, into his eyes. He concentrates on them, on their steady permanence, even as the bed tilts and the room spins a little. He can’t tell Blaine that he thinks sometimes that maybe things would be better if they were just dating, or maybe even if they were engaged, but engaged as a sort of long term thing, not engaged, and planning a Labor Day wedding. He wonders if they’ve missed out on something big, something important, doing things the way they have.

Blaine’s eyes are worried. His hand is on Kurt’s knee. He brings his fingers up to touch Kurt’s cheek. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Blaine says. 

“No,” Kurt says, and he’s leaning down, fumbling with his too-big fingers to untie his shoes. 

“What did you mean about dating?” 

Kurt’s heart is pounding in his chest. He doesn’t want to cry. Not right now, when he’s not sure when he’ll be able to stop, if he starts. 

“I…” It’s no use. The tears start slowly. Blaine’s face makes everything worse – he looks so worried, and maybe a little scared. 

Kurt thinks _he knows_ and is surprised to find that he actually sort of believes it, believes that Blaine knows everything in his head, that he’s somehow become transparent, that everything he’s feeling is just written across his face, maybe. 

“Kurt,” Blaine says, and his voice sounds broken, confused. “Just tell me what to do,” he says, as if there’s some physical action that can fix this. 

Kurt stares at him. There’s nothing, he realizes, nothing Blaine can do, nothing Kurt can do either. They passed the point of no return a long time ago. He feels nostalgic for the choir room at McKinley, for the many-blazered halls of Dalton, for simpler times. 

He tugs Blaine down with him on the bed, kisses him, deep, and a little messy. Alcohol always makes his tongue feel big and sloppy in Blaine’s mouth, but Kurt doesn’t really mind. He loves Blaine’s mouth, loves filling it up like this. He tastes him, probes his tongue deeper, waits for arousal to flood his veins. 

“Kurt,” Blaine is saying, pulling away, trying to look at him. “Don’t you think you should tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, I just… I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m being an idiot.” 

“We can go on more dates if you want to go on more dates,” Blaine says quickly, the words spilling out over Kurt’s lips. “Going on dates with you is not a problem.” 

Kurt smiles. “I know.” 

“We can do anything you want, as many times as you want,” Blaine says, and then his face darkens. “But I wonder if there’s more to it than that.” 

Kurt shakes his head. He doesn’t trust his voice. 

Blaine’s face is closed off now, and it’s not an unfamiliar look, Kurt realizes. Blaine is protecting something, too. _We’re the same, then_ , Kurt thinks, and the realization surges in his chest, like it’s a good thing. 

“Okay, fine,” Blaine says finally, and buries his face in Kurt’s neck. 

And then Blaine kisses him, and Kurt thinks it’s a dirty trick, how he can make the world turn upside down like this with his lips, and his fingers in Kurt hair, and his leg hooked over Kurt’s thighs, and then he moves, and Kurt thinks _thank god_ because this is a thing he’s good at, even when he’s half-drunk and his words are dangerous, this isn’t. This is perfect. 

This is Blaine removing every article of his clothing carefully, not pulling too hard on his vest because he knows it’s vintage and the third button is a little loose. This is Blaine sliding slim-fit, self-tailored denim down his legs slowly, and Kurt kicking them to the floor impatiently, as Blaine chuckles deep in his throat, and runs his palm over Kurt’s chest because he knows it will call every hair on Kurt’s body to attention. And that’s what Blaine wants, maybe – Kurt’s attention. _You have it_ , Kurt thinks, but there’s a part of him that’s distracted, there’s a part of him that’s thinking of weddings and promises and choices and trust; there’s a part of him that’s scared.

**

Blaine is locked in on Labor Day for the wedding, and despite the long hours of sunlight and blazing-concrete heat, the days pass quickly. The loft is stuffy at night, and even worse during the day, no matter how long they run the window a/c unit at full blast. 

Without really talking about it, Blaine becomes the Wedding Planner in full force, with appointments, and tasting menus, and well-researched opinions on everything from centerpieces to appetizer ingredients, and Kurt becomes…something else. He goes to the gym every morning, and picks up extra shifts at the diner, and doesn’t usually bring up Labor Day or the wedding unless Blaine does, first. 

It’s Kurt’s second summer in New York, and this time around, there are no group dinners, no movie nights with Sam and Mercedes, or meeting friends for drinks after one of Rachel's shows. There’s no one crowding their space in the loft, no one vying for the right to camp out on their couch. There are other people they could hang out with – and they do, sometimes - but nothing really seems to stick, friendship-wise. There’s no one to share the sort of easy camaraderie that they had with their friends from Lima – everything takes more effort, requires more planning.

This time around, it’s just Kurt and Blaine, and it’s supposed to be perfect.

When the dates for NYADA’s fall placement auditions are announced, all the sudden it doesn’t feel like there are enough hours in the day to rehearse, to commute back and forth from work, to think about a wedding at all. Over the past year, Kurt has come to realize that he’s not very good at managing stress, he knows that he takes it out on the people around him, can see it in Blaine’s face when he snaps at him over breakfast, or at the end of the day, when Blaine makes an offhand comment about the number of text messages he’s sent that have gone unanswered.

This time around, Rachel isn’t there to tell Kurt he’s being an idiot when he’s being an idiot – he has to figure it out for himself, and sometimes it takes him days, and by then, Blaine has moved on, has forgotten about whatever stupid thing Kurt had said, or hadn’t said. It all starts to add up, this invisible tally of things so small he can’t apologize for, but so big that he can’t forget them.

Their lives start to feel very _separate_ , and Kurt starts to feel a bit like he's been abandoned here, which is ridiculous, of course, because, Blaine is right here with him, so if he’s been abandoned, then they both have, and it should be _okay_ because he shouldn’t need anyone else, he’s never needed anything other than Blaine. They’re supposed to be in this together. 

**

“And you wonder why we don’t have any friends…” Kurt says one morning, leaning over Blaine’s shoulder in the bathroom, as he gently folds the towel over the towel rack. He can’t straighten it to his liking, because Blaine is in the way. He’ll do it later, he tells himself, and glances at Blaine’s reflection in the mirror. 

In the end, they’d decided against painting, and they’d never gotten around to making curtains; the dark brick theme of the bathroom remains unchanged.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Kurt?” 

Blaine’s expression has gone from confused to very nearly wounded, and Kurt rolls his eyes. 

“What?”

“Are you saying I should have said yes?” 

Kurt narrows his eyes. “That’s not what I said.” 

“Okay, because I thought we were both in agreement that date night was sacred. I already made reservations.” 

“We were… We _are_.” Kurt wonders when Blaine started to sound so much like his dad. 

Blaine sighs. “But?”

“I don’t know, never mind.” 

“Just say what you were going to say, Kurt.” 

“It’s just that since Rachel and everyone left, it just feels a little…lonely, you know? I was just thinking that maybe we should take advantage of opportunities like this when they come along – try to expand our social circle a little more.” 

Blaine’s expression goes slack for a moment. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, they’re both just standing there, frozen. It’s starting to make Kurt feel uncomfortable. He’s already starting to regret saying anything at all. 

“It’s fine though,” Kurt says. “It’s not like this is the only time they’re going to have extra tickets.” 

Blaine is quiet, and it’s starting to really irritate Kurt. He’s tired of feeling like they can’t even so much as have a difference of opinion anymore that doesn’t turn into a flight. 

“Can you please stop looking at me like that. I said it’s fine.” 

“You just said that you’re _lonely_.”

“Because I am!” Kurt has no idea why he’s raising his voice – he’s not even angry, he’s just tired of tiptoeing around Blaine, maybe. “Of course I’m lonely. My best friend and pretty much everyone we ever hung out with has moved out of the city. We’re marooned out here in Bushwick like—like orphans or something.” 

Kurt can feel his face warming. He’s not really sure where that came from. 

“Well, _I’m_ here,” Blaine says, and pushes past him without meeting his eyes. “For whatever that’s worth.” 

“Blaine, I didn’t mean--” Kurt says, trailing after Blaine, but when he starts to follow him into the bedroom, Blaine stops him. 

“Can you please just give me a minute,” Blaine says, and his voice is steady, but Kurt can tell by the look on his face, by the way his eyes dart around him, looking anywhere but at his face that he’s hurt. Of course he is. Kurt doesn’t really blame him.

Kurt sits on the couch and idly pokes at his phone, listening to Blaine puttering around in the bedroom, listening to the street sounds from outside as they bleed in through the open window, par for the course on a weekday morning. A horn blares, and Kurt closes his eyes, trying to calm himself down. There’s no reason to be embarrassed about being honest. This is _Blaine_. He glances at the clock, just as Blaine appears in the living room. 

“I thought you were meeting June for brunch?”

Blaine ignores the question, sits down next to Kurt with a serious look on his face. 

“I didn’t mean to react like that.”

“It’s fine – you don’t have to apologize.”

“I’m not apologizing, I’m just-- Hearing you say that, it made me realize that I’ve been kind of lonely, too.” 

Blaine is looking at him, his face wide open with emotion, and _feeling_. He wants to talk, of course he does, and Kurt just…doesn’t, he realizes. There is no part of him that wants to discuss his, or anyone else’s loneliness right now. He feels tense, and uptight, uncomfortable in his skin in a way that he hasn’t felt in forever. It’s not Blaine’s fault, but he also finds himself resenting the way Blaine is looking at him, resenting the fact that he’s looking at him at all.

“Okay, you know,” Kurt starts, hoping he can end this quickly. “I really didn’t mean to--“

“Kurt, I’m trying to say that I get it. You’re here,” Blaine says. “And that’s obviously great, but I miss our friends too. Of course I do.” 

Kurt sighs, looks at Blaine. “I really wasn’t trying to pick a fight, Blaine.”

Blaine looks confused. “Are we fighting?” 

“I don’t know, are we?”

“I thought we were just talking.”

Kurt lets out a tense breath. “Okay, if you say so.” 

Blaine draws up his shoulders defensively. He looks hurt, again, and Kurt has to look away. He stares past Blaine, into the bathroom, where the curtains should be bringing out the color of the baseboard trim.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just have a conversation about this, Kurt. Can you at least look at me?” 

Kurt glances quickly at Blaine. “I am looking at you, Blaine. I’m sitting right here, looking at you.” 

“You’re not, you’re— never mind.” Blaine throws up his hands in an exaggerated show of exasperation that kind of makes Kurt want to scream. “I don’t even understand what we’re talking about anymore.”

“Then maybe you should just go meet June already.” 

“Yeah,” Blaine says, shaking his head. “Fine. You’re right – I’m already late.” 

“I’m sure she’s used to it,” Kurt says, gritting his teeth, ignoring the look Blaine gives him, which is pointed and dark. 

He doesn’t say anything else, turns his attention back to his phone, and in another minute Blaine is gone. The door slides shut behind him, and the street sounds come back: traffic, and someone shouting something in a language Kurt pegs as Spanish, but is may be some more nuanced dialect from another place he’s never visited… Of course all that white noise had been there the whole time, though, Kurt thinks, he just hadn’t been listening.

**

Kurt feels awful for the rest of the day. He waits around for as long as he can for Blaine to get back from brunch, but eventually he has to leave for his shift at the diner. He texts Blaine on his way out, apologizes, citing general grumpiness, and stress, and gets a curt (no pun intended) reply back. 

_It’s fine_ , Blaine says. _Apology accepted_. 

It doesn’t feel much like acceptance though. It feels like Blaine has just given up, or at least, that he’s given up on the version of Kurt that’s incapable of having a conversation about the various shades of loneliness that this great city they live in seems so good at drawing out of them.

Kurt spends his time on the subway on the way to the diner feeling guilty, avoiding eye contact with anyone, because lately, he kind of feels like he’s walking around with the word _asshole_ tattooed on his face. 

He knows Blaine had been right to be angry. He’s not willing to have a conversation about this, or anything lately. It’s as if all the sudden, he can’t relate to Blaine, even about something like this, which is the exact sort of thing he’d normally trust Blaine to help him figure out. They should be able to be lonely and miss their friends in this huge city _together_.

It scares him - losing his temper, not being able to see eye to eye on small things, or big things, it all feels the same, lately. He doesn’t know how to make this right, because isn’t sure where the common ground is anymore. He’s afraid to look too closely, maybe.

It’s the wedding, he thinks. It makes every fight they have feel noteworthy, makes every disagreement feel like another tick in some column somewhere, reminding him that they’re not perfect – that maybe they’re not even compatible as roommates, let alone anything else. 

Everything feels bigger and more important when the phrase _trial run_ looms on the periphery. Blaine is late meeting him for coffee, twice in a row, and it feels like a referendum on their entire relationship. Petty arguments in the apartment, tripping over Blaine’s shoes in the dark because he refuses to use the shoe rack, again - everything starts to feel like one, big, stupid metaphor highlighting how utterly different Blaine is from Kurt, and vice versa. 

Kurt feels so far away from Blaine, sometimes, even when they’re in the same room together. He feels detached, stuck in his own head, and he’s sure there’s a way to snap back, to just _feel_ the things he feels for Blaine, to go back to that, and to put everything in perspective, but he can’t seem to get there, it always feels just slightly out of reach. If anything, he feels like he’s losing perspective, that the distance between them is growing as the summer stretches on.

Nothing is going according to plan, and Kurt honestly has no idea anymore – if they’ve arrived, if this is actually where they’re meant to be. He loves Blaine, but this is _hard_ and he can list off all the excuses in the world to explain why – but none of them make it any easier.

They’re getting married, and Kurt should be in his element, should be at his absolute best. He knows that he needs to be, that Blaine deserves nothing less, but lately, he can’t help but feel like he’s _failing_. And Kurt can’t be at his best when he feels like he’s failing, he knows he can’t. 

By the time he arrives at the diner for his shift, he’s come to a conclusion - something has to change, and soon. He just wishes he knew where to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've revised the final chapter count for this to 7 - this current chapter was getting really long, and it ended up being easier to just split it in two. (This may happen again, with one of the final chapters that I'm still fleshing out, but I'm not 100% sure yet.) Anyway - thanks as always for reading :) I hope my take on all this still makes sense!


	5. Chapter 5

_July, 2014_

It’s July, and the dog days of summer have officially arrived on the island of Manhattan. Everything is hot and sticky and just finding a space to plant your body on the subway is a taxing affair. 

Kurt finds himself almost unconsciously making excuses to spend as much time away from the loft, and Bushwick as possible. He lingers with coworkers at the diner after his shift ends. He goes in early, and spends a lot of time in empty NYADA practice rooms rehearsing, and not rehearsing - scrolling mindlessly through his phone, reading Broadway blogs and fashion headlines. 

He is at least peripherally aware that he’s running away - that he’s throwing himself and his time at things that in the long run, are not very important, and that this is not making anything any easier. 

But there's stress and tension, and every day seems to build on the one before. There’s something close to resentment growing inside of him. Kurt remembers having felt this way towards his father, years ago, when he felt misunderstood and misrepresented - when it seemed like no matter what he did, there just wasn’t any way to close the gap with this person that he loved more than anything. Kurt isn’t sure what it means that he’s feeling this way now. He’s tired though – of feeling like he’s failing, just a little more, every day.

The days keep passing anyway. 

It starts out as an idle thought on his way home one night – there’s a new coffee shop over on 10th Avenue that he’s been curious about, and Kurt wonders what would happen if he just stopped in one night without a second thought, if he stopped in and just sat there for an hour or two, without wondering if he’d make the last express train to Brooklyn, without wondering if Blaine was home yet, if he’d be waiting up… Kurt wonders what would happen if he could just make a decision to do something, even something simple like this, and just _do_ it. He wonders if the city, if the world would open up to him, maybe, and become something different, too – if maybe it would _change_ , just like that. 

The thought keeps coming back, creeping in when he’s out on his own, on the subway, or walking down 8th Avenue as the city bustles around him. It forces him to wonder what it would be like, to be something else, someone different. 

**

It’s late, after eleven, and Kurt is standing in the kitchen next to the refrigerator, waiting for Blaine to say something. The a/c unit whirs along in the background, and there's sweat drying on his forehead from climbing the stairs. In the end, he’d rushed; he’d run up three sets of stairs from underground, and had briskly covered the distance between the subway and the apartment, despite the heat. He wonders if his cheeks are still red.

Blaine is sitting at the table with his laptop open. His face is completely still when he looks up at Kurt, eyes searching his face. 

“I’m not saying you have to account for every second you’re gone,” Blaine says, and his voice sounds tired, and a little guarded. “I just wish you’d texted me. I was worried.” 

Kurt knows he should have texted Blaine. They’d had a date, of sorts, a _let me know when you’re on your way home – I’ll start dinner, and we’ll watch a movie_ kind of date, and not a date where he’d left Blaine waiting somewhere for him, but still. He knew that Blaine had been waiting all the same. 

And sure, he could have forgotten, could have lost track of time in one of the rehearsal rooms, but he also knows that this isn’t what had happened. 

Kurt knows he should apologize, that he owes at least this much to Blaine. 

Instead, he says, “I don’t know, Blaine – sometimes I just want to be able to go out, on my own…”

He watches Blaine’s face fall – hurt feelings flashing across his face.

“I mean with _myself_ , Blaine,” Kurt says quickly, guilt seeping in where it’d been cut off before. “Sometimes I want to just-- I don’t know, go to a coffee shop, or--or a bookstore. By myself.” 

Blaine lets out a breath. “Since when do you frequent bookstores?”

“I just mean--” Kurt feels deflated, suddenly, feels like an idiot. “I don’t know what I mean. Just forget it.” 

“Kurt, you can still do those things,” Blaine says, and his voice is earnest, so well-meaning it makes Kurt’s chest ache. “You can do anything you want – I’m not stopping you.” 

And suddenly Kurt is very much not deflated, he feels a surge of unexpected emotion in his chest, inexplicable, and completely overwhelming. Blaine’s eyes are dark and searching, as Kurt sinks into the chair across from him.

“I know you’re not stopping me. It’s—It’s _me_.”

“What do you mean?”

“I could,” Kurt says, voice rising. “I could do those things, sure. But I don’t. I won’t.”

Blaine stares at Kurt for a long moment, and then stretches his hand across the table, brushes his fingers over Kurt’s knuckles tentatively for a second until Kurt looks at him.

“What’s wrong, Kurt? Is this about the wedding, because I--”

Kurt shakes his head. Blaine’s hand is still so close – he can feel it, even though they’re not touching. 

“I won’t,” he says, glancing at Blaine, who is watching him with intent, and affection, and Kurt just isn’t sure anymore if he deserves any of it, and he hates doubting that, more than anything. 

“I won’t do any of those things,” he says. “Because I’d rather come home to you – I’d rather come home and sit on the couch and have dinner with you and watch TV with you than do anything else. Wanting to do that, it—it stops me from—I don’t know. It just _stops_ me.”

“From going to a coffee shop?”

“Yes,” Kurt says quietly.

“Or a bookstore.”

Blaine stares at him until Kurt looks up, meets his eyes. 

“And that’s what’s wrong?”

Kurt lets out a long breath. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

Kurt is aware of the fact that this probably doesn’t make any sense to Blaine. He knows he’s been all over the place lately. He can’t explain why he didn’t text Blaine tonight any more than he can explain anything he’s been feeling lately. 

“It didn’t stop you tonight though,” Blaine says. It's somewhere between a question and something else. 

“No,” Kurt says quietly. 

“I really don’t want to fight about this,” Blaine says, after another moment. He shakes his head. “But a week ago, you told me you were lonely, and now you’re telling me you want more time alone. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that.” 

Kurt feels a familiar sense of anxiety rising to the surface. “I’m not asking you to _do_ anything with it, Blaine.” 

“Well, that,” Blaine says, his voice breathless and angry, now. “That’s just not up to you, Kurt.”

Kurt has no idea what to say to that. He knows Blaine is right – they’re in this together, of course he’s going to want to try to fix this. Blaine is just staring at him, looking a bit like he doesn’t recognize him. _Well, that makes two of us_ , Kurt thinks. He has the distinct feeling of wanting to crawl out of his own skin. 

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says, finally, but he’s not sure that it sounds like he means it. “Blaine, I’m _sorry_. I should have texted you.”

Blaine just nods, and his eyes flicker up to meet Kurt’s, but there’s just too much going on there for Kurt to really take in, just now - he has to look away, has to start moving towards somewhere Blaine isn’t.

He settles on the bathroom, and the shower, and as lukewarm water rolls over his skin, he wonders if maybe he’s going a little crazy. Because the thing is, what happened tonight – he has no explanation other than the fact that lately, he’s started imagining himself as something other than this – as someone other than Blaine’s fiancé. 

In a universe outside of this one, where there isn’t a barely thrown together, way-too-rushed-to-be-perfect wedding in their future – in that world he’s just _himself_. He’s just Kurt Hummel, and he’s not running away from anything or hurting anyone, he just _exists_. He sits in coffee shops and reads and sketches designs on napkins and doesn't worry about how late it’s getting, or what it means that he doesn't want to get on the subway back to Brooklyn.

It’s not really that he wants something else, or to be someone different, but… There’s something liberating about imagining himself completely unfettered – floating through the streets of Manhattan and Brooklyn, bound by nothing, by no one - weightless, and free. 

He doesn’t feel very free tonight though. Tonight he feels an overwhelming sense of guilt, and every time he closes his eyes he sees Blaine’s face after he slid the door open tonight – because at first, before Blaine had been confused and angry and hurt, he’d just been _relieved_ , Kurt could see it on his face. There's nothing freeing at all about this feeling that he's carrying around - because in _this_ universe, Kurt is fairly certain that he's hurting the person he loves for no good reason, over and over.

**

Every day, it seems like things feel a little more frantic, a little less within his control than they did the day before. He can’t talk to Blaine because Blaine is already stressed out about all of the same things, and he just can’t imagine how that conversation would go, how it would start; he can’t come up with any of the right words to talk about anything anymore. 

They fight instead – not about important things, not about Kurt spending day after twelve-hour-day in the city, or about the wedding, or their quickly-encroaching future, but about almost comically unimportant things: whose turn it is to take out the garbage, which grocery store has the best organic produce. Kurt hadn’t realized it was physically possible to keep an argument going for over an hour about any of these things that clearly mean nothing at all, but lots of things surprise him now. 

Nothing is like Kurt imagined it would be. Everything is a mess, literally - there’s dust a quarter of an inch thick on the bookshelf, and he has no idea when the apartment has last been vacuumed. Their cleaning regimen has been outright ignored lately. 

And even though usually Kurt wouldn’t even entertain the thought of spending time in a less than pristine living space, every day he finds himself just glancing at it - the dust, the clutter, the dishes in the sink, and thinks _later, tomorrow, over the weekend_ and before he knows it, tomorrow has come and gone, and nothing has changed. 

**

Kurt blinks in the darkness. Blaine’s side of the bed is empty. He’s not sure what exactly it is that woke him up, but past the curtain that that they’d left up after Rachel left, he can see that Blaine has one of the smaller lights on in the living room. He lies there for a few minutes, listening to the sound of Blaine’s fingers, typing away on his laptop. There’s the occasional flip of pages, too. 

There’s a lump in Kurt’s throat that feels like it’s been there for weeks. He swallows past it now, but it’s not easy. Nothing feels easy anymore, including _sleep_. Kurt thinks about taking an Ambien, but it’s already two in the morning, and he needs to be up by seven. Even if he takes half, he’ll be way too groggy to function. 

More flipped pages, more typing. There’s a wedding magazine that’s been sitting on the kitchen table for the past week and a half. Kurt is sure it weighs at least five pounds. He’s probably moved it back and forth a half a dozen times by now. Once he tried opening it, but didn’t get past the cover page.

He knows he should be out there with Blaine. He planned his father’s wedding when he was in high school. He’s planned countless fictitious weddings in his head over the years, including his wedding with Blaine - more than once, actually. Kurt _loves_ weddings. 

He finds his slippers under the bed, and ventures out into the living room. 

Blaine looks surprised to see him, which makes sense, considering that he’s been sneaking out here every night for the past week, and Kurt has never gotten out of bed before. 

There’s an open bottle of wine on the coffee table next to Blaine’s wedding planner – a notebook that lately has been looking a little worse for wear. Kurt hasn’t really looked at it, other than to admire the color-coded tabs, and neat rows of handwriting. He imagines swatches of color inside the pages, flower schemes and tablecloth designs. 

The wine had been Rachel’s, a gift from some producer, if he remembers correctly. Blaine offers to get him a glass, which Kurt politely declines. 

Kurt hates having to employ politeness around Blaine. It makes him feel fake, and superior.

It’s so quiet in the apartment at this hour. Kurt listens, and there’s just nothing, no street noise, no neighbors, nothing. It's as if they’ve been deposited in some vacuum, just floating around in space. 

Blaine leans over his laptop to pour himself another glass of Rachel’s wine, and Kurt stares at his back, trying to think of something to say. 

“What are you working on?” is what he settles on. 

“Right now,” Blaine says, without turning around, “I’m trying to put together a menu for the rehearsal dinner.” 

“How’s it going?” 

Blaine takes a long, deliberate breath. “Fine, Kurt. It’s going fine. Everything’s going fine. That’s why I’m sitting here drinking wine by myself at two in the morning, because it’s all going really smoothly.” 

Kurt is surprised, but he’s not sure why - he set himself up for this, really. 

"Sorry," Blaine says a second later, shaking his head. "I think I've been staring at this stuff for too long..."

“You don’t have to do all this, you know,” Kurt says after a moment. Blaine turns around, and actually looks at Kurt for the first time since he's come out of the bedroom. He looks worn out - exhausted, really. 

Kurt joins him on the floor, squeezes his shoulder and allows himself to focus for just a moment on the contact, on the warmth of Blaine’s skin underneath the thin layer of cotton. 

And then Blaine says, “I _do_ have to do all this. It was my idea, remember.” 

Kurt has no idea how they’ve slipped into these roles – but he hates them. He hates seeing Blaine hunched over his laptop, stressed out, almost as much as he hates seeing himself so idle when it comes to this. But it’s not like he can just jump in now, not with Blaine looking at him like this, and this lump in his throat and this feeling in his heart that tells him it’s _too late_ , that he can't redeem himself when it comes to this, not anymore.

“You don’t understand,” Blaine is saying. "Everything is pretty much booked already. Unless we want to settle for--”

“Blaine, I know how weddings work, okay! I did half of this stuff on my own when I was in high school for my dad and Carole!” 

Blaine takes a long shuddering breath that scares Kurt a little, because while he knows what it means, knows that Blaine is stressed, and upset, and that he’s not helping – for once, he’s not sure how to fix it. He doesn’t think he can. It’s his _fault_ , after all.

“I _know_ , Kurt,” Blaine says finally. “I know.” 

The look on his face makes Kurt’s stomach churn. He never meant for Blaine to feel like this, certainly not about their wedding. He has no idea what to say. 

He takes in the piles of papers, the wine, the dog-eared planning book, the wedding magazines, and Blaine’s exhausted, unhappy expression. It doesn’t mean what it should, any of it. He doesn’t _feel_ the way he should. Mostly, he just feels hollowed out, empty, and tired. From the look on Blaine’s face, they have that in common, at least.

In another universe, this would be the point in which another version of himself, a braver version, a more honest version, would turn to Blaine and explain everything – even the thoughts in his head that he can’t make sense of, that he doesn’t understand yet. He would just tell Blaine – that he’s scared, that he’s worried, that he’s never reacted quite like this to anything before, that usually he’s the type to jump right in and examine the things he’s afraid of and to _dominate_ them, but for some reason he’s running away from this. He’s shutting down and he’s lashing out and he knows it’s not fair, and that it’s only making things worse, but in a weird way he thinks maybe he’s reacting like this because it’s so _important_. Their wedding is so important – _they_ are so important, this thing that they’ve built, that they’re building, now. 

He would apologize, for making Blaine feel this way, for not being here, for not being at his best, for not being honest. For imagining his life alone, without this, for thinking even for a second that he’d prefer it like that. He would tell Blaine that he never meant for it to end up like this. And then… then Kurt isn’t really sure what would happen, and that’s as far as he gets, because in this universe, Blaine is staring at him, and he has to _say_ something.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says, quietly. 

Blaine is quiet for moment that stretches on way too long. 

_It’s not enough_ , Kurt thinks. Of course it’s not, but at the moment, it’s all he has. He meets Blaine’s eyes, hoping for some kind of miracle, maybe. 

“Okay,” Blaine says finally. He takes a deep breath.

“Okay?” 

“Yeah,” he says, and smiles a little. “I know you’ve been rehearsing like crazy this past week, and you've been picking up all those extra shifts--”

“Blaine, I--”

“You’re not off the hook though.” He smiles, bigger this time, like he really means it, and something lights up in Kurt. He’s missed this, has missed Blaine looking at him like this, like he believes in him. “I’m sure there’s some way I can use your expertise to my advantage.”

“Okay, good,” Kurt says – his chest, his whole body, feels weightless. _This is the moment_ , Kurt thinks, when everything will change. 

Nothing happens though - there's just this blank 2AM silence hovering between them, and then Blaine turns back to his laptop. The moment is slipping away already, he can feel it.

“You should come back to bed." 

“I will, I just have to--” 

“It can wait,” Kurt says. His voice is determined, deliberate. “Come on.”

Then he fixes Blaine with a _look_ , the one that he knows Blaine can’t resist, no matter what he's doing - the one that turns his knees to jelly, every time. 

**

And Blaine tastes like wine, just like Kurt thought he would – sweet and earthy. He practically melts into Kurt’s arms, as soon as they switch off the light. His lips make their way along Kurt’s neck, to his chest, and everything is familiar and comfortable and so, so good. Blaine’s body is firm against him; a perfect fit, as always. 

They breathe words into each other’s skin: _I love you_ and _I‘m sorry_ and _please don’t stop_ and _I’ve missed this_ and _please, Kurt_ and _oh, god, Blaine, I—_ and for a while, everything is wonderful. They’re connected, they’re together, and it means everything. 

**

It doesn’t last though. 

The apartment is still a mess. Blaine is still obsessed with the wedding, and Kurt is still running away. Nothing is too small to start a fight over. Everything feels like variations on a familiar theme, and nothing really changes. 

**

“So how’s the wedding planning going, kid?” 

Kurt can hear the sounds of the shop filtered through the phone in the background – guys shouting over the loud whir of machinery. It sounds like they’re a million miles away from Manhattan. He squints in the filtered sunlight of the park, and adjusts the phone against his ear as he takes another sip of coffee. He has to be at the diner in an hour, but it’s been weeks since he’s talked to his dad – maybe longer. It feels like forever. He’s missed his voice. 

“It’s fine,” he says, hoping to change the subject quickly. “You’re not working too much, are you? You know I’ve got Carole on speed-dial, too, so don’t even think about lying to me.”

“I’m working just as much as I’m allowed to be, thank you very much. And I feel great. But I really do want to know how the planning’s going, so don’t think you can put me off that easily. You’ve barely said a word about it all summer.”

“I said it’s going fine, Dad,” Kurt says tightly.

“Really? Because Blaine called me last night. He sounded pretty stressed.” 

“Blaine is always stressed,” Kurt deadpans. “But, uh… Why did he call? He didn’t mention anything.” 

“The guest list,” his dad tells him, and Kurt’s heart sinks a little. 

“Yeah, I think I was supposed to call you about that.”

“Blaine may have mentioned something to that effect.” 

Kurt sighs. In front of his park bench, two older men jog past in tank tops and short shorts. In the grassy area behind the benches, there’s a father playing catch with his son. He can’t be more than four or five – the glove takes up half of his arm. The first toss sails over the kid’s head, and when he turns to run for the ball, a private, proud smile spreads across the man’s face. It’s one of Kurt’s favorite things about the city – this anonymity among strangers, this quiet mutual understanding between people living their lives in shared spaces, day after day.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says finally. “I had no idea he was going to hassle you about it.” 

There’s a familiar, slightly exasperated huff on the other end of the line. 

“Don’t twist my words, Kurt. It’s no hassle. I support both of you one hundred percent on this. I’m happy to help.” 

Kurt can’t help but smile a little. “I know you are, Dad. Thank you.” 

He feels nostalgic suddenly, for Lima, for a hug from his dad, for being able to feel like a kid again, instead of an adult, planning weddings and finalizing guest lists. 

“Now Kurt,” his dad says. “Don’t bite my head off, but I have to ask you – why is Blaine the one calling me about this?”

Kurt freezes, stares straight ahead, as the empty bench across from him becomes occupied again, this time with an older man, who spreads the New York Times open wide across his lap. 

“Because I forgot, I guess. I’ve been really busy.” The words almost make him cringe, they sound so inadequate.

“Too busy to plan your own wedding?” Kurt can practically see the expression on his dad’s face – eyebrows raised in disbelief. “I find that hard to believe. And so does Blaine. He’s worried about you.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” Kurt snaps. 

“Kurt,” his dad says, voice serious, no-nonsense. “If this isn’t what you want, or if this if this is moving too fast, you have to be honest with him.” 

Kurt nearly forgets to breathe for a second. 

“We’ve been engaged for over a _year_ ,” he says after a long moment. 

“This is important, Kurt. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been.”

Kurt’s anger bubbles over then, he can’t help it. “I know it’s important! It’s my _wedding_. I know how important it is, but there are other things that are important too!” 

His dad is quiet, letting him have his say, Kurt supposes – he’s always been a good listener - but the problem is, Kurt is really not in the mood for this right now. 

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says quickly. “Can we please talk about something else? How’s Carole?”

There’s a long sigh on the line, before his dad speaks again. 

“Carole is fine, Kurt. She joined a support group, over at that Lutheran church around the corner from McKinley. Says it’s been good, just being able to talk to people, who, you know – people who have been through the same things.”

“That’s good,” Kurt says, meaning it. “That’s really good.” 

They’re quiet for a moment, and Kurt thinks, not for the first time, about how much Finn would have loved New York, if he’d given it a chance. He probably would have ended up being one of those sweaty guys in baggy shorts and t-shirts running around the great lawn chasing flags on Saturday afternoon, apologizing to the fashionable sunbathers when one of his teammates got too close.

“Kurt, listen,” his dad starts, and Kurt is pretty sure there’s some kind of lecture coming. He probably deserves it.

“Yes?”

“I just want you to know you can be honest with me. About whatever’s bothering you.”

“I know that,” Kurt says, and watches the man across from him move on to the sports section. “And nothing is bothering me, okay? I’ve just been getting a little tired of the constant wedding talk. I know Blaine’s been working really hard on everything, but…” 

“But what?”

Kurt finds himself shrugging. “I don’t know. Something feels off,” he admits. “Ever since Rachel left… I don’t know.” 

“I told you, being married is hard, right? Well, living together is hard too. You make compromises. Some of them are gonna be easier than others. But as long as you’re honest with each other, as long as you keep talking to each other, and trying to understand where the other person is coming from, I think you’ll do alright.”

Kurt thinks about earlier this week, about that stupid goddamned towel, and the toothpaste, about how Blaine would just not let it go for anything. It was such a ridiculous thing to be arguing about anyway. And Blaine had just kept going on and on and on. About respect, about how if you respect someone, it doesn’t matter if you agree with them, you just _do_ it, because you _care_ , and how infuriating it had been to hear Blaine act like Kurt didn’t care about their entire relationship, or about his fiancé as an actual human being, because of a stupid _towel_. He can feel his heart racing now, just thinking about it. Blaine had already apologized, of course. He had, too. He wonders how much his dad would think that counted for.

“That’s good advice, Dad. Thanks,” Kurt says, and there are a million other things he could say, but he decides against all of them. There’s something comforting about someone he really cares about _not_ knowing what a complete mess he’s made of everything. It doesn’t seem worth it to ruin that just yet.

After they’ve said their goodbyes, Kurt stays in the park for a while. He finishes his coffee, and the man across from him finishes his paper. Kurt watches as he folds it neatly on the bench next to him before he stands up, slides it under his arm, and starts to make his way down the path. The game of catch ends without Kurt noticing. When he looks up at the grass beyond the benches again, the man and his son are walking away – he watches as the little boy points excitedly at a squirrel as it darts across their path. 

Sitting here like this, on a beautiful, not-oppressively-hot summer day in the park, Kurt is inclined to be optimistic. The wedding will come together; it’ll be small, and it’ll be perfect. Blaine will, after this is all over, forgive his temporary insanity. They’ll stop wanting to murder each other over bath linens. Sitting here like this, it all seems so inconsequential. 

He thinks about calling Blaine, and then remembers that he can’t do that because last night, Blaine had practically begged him to go with him to two different appointments this morning – one with the florist, and another with the photographer, and Kurt had declined. He’s supposed to be rehearsing, except that he’s not, he’s sitting in Central Park drinking coffee and watching squirrels and chatting with his dad like everything is fine when he’s pretty sure that it’s not. He knows that it's not inconsequential, that all of these things have meaning and weight, that they're _important_.

Maybe he should have told his dad - maybe he would have had some advice, some wisdom, something that would have made everything feel okay again. 

Next time, Kurt thinks, and starts to make his way across the park, and back into the city. 

**

The day that it happens, and everything comes to a head, the day when something actually _changes_ , Kurt wakes up before his alarm. 

Blaine is already gone. He has a vague recollection of him mentioning something last night about breakfast, and early member hours with June - some museum, downtown.

He goes to the gym – spin class, a few weights, nothing too crazy – and comes back to the apartment to shower. 

He has a six hour, relatively uneventful shift at the diner. One of the waitresses asks about Rachel, about her TV show, and L.A., and Kurt says that he has no idea, because he doesn’t. He hasn’t heard a word from her since she left, which is not entirely surprising – Rachel is the most focused person he knows, when she’s serious about something - but all the same, he should probably call her. 

He makes a mental note to do this, but only _after_ they’ve pinned down the wedding location, because he knows she’ll ask about it, and the thought of deferring to Blaine on something like this just feels wrong. And she would never let him live it down.

And as of today, it’s what he’d have to do because the last he heard, there were three potential options, one of which may require a five-thousand-dollar deposit that they don’t have, another of which is in Hoboken. _New Jersey_. Kurt can feel his anxiety levels raising just thinking about it. He’s supposed to be excited about this. He’s not. He can’t admit to Rachel that he’s not excited, that instead he’s really kind of just freaking out about everything. 

He calls anyway, after his shift ends, a block from the diner, on his way to NYADA to rehearse with his pianist. He’s thinking of doing _Awaiting You_ , from _Myths and Hymns_ for the fall audition, something he’s sure Rachel will appreciate. The call goes to voicemail. He thinks about leaving a message. 

_“When you and Finn were planning your wedding did you ever think of just eloping? About how much easier it would be not to worry about any of the logistics and just…do it in some tiny no-name town somewhere where no one knows you at all?”_

But Kurt knows that Rachel isn’t thinking about Finn right now, or about Kurt and his wedding woes. Rachel has her own life, and it’s much bigger than his at the moment. 

He doesn’t leave a message.

**

While Kurt is in rehearsal, Blaine fills up his phone with text messages. Mostly it’s details about where to meet for dinner later, something they’d planned earlier this week, since for once, Kurt isn’t working in the evening. Blaine changes the time three times before Kurt has a chance to respond – something about making it to the caterers before they close – and eventually they decide on 8:45. Later than Kurt would like – he’s already hungry, but whatever. He has an hour, probably an hour and a half, really, until he needs to head downtown. 

He’ll use the time to rehearse, he decides.

He signs in to one of the larger classrooms that are available for students to use as practice rooms. It feels too big, but this is what he’d wanted – to hear his voice echo like it will in the Round Room, at his audition. 

He gets halfway through his first song before he stops. He’s not feeling it. He hasn’t been feeling it for a while, really, despite the extra rehearsals - hasn’t really been feeling anything, except anxious and uptight, and worried about the future, and the past, and everything all at once. He keeps telling himself to take it one day at a time, one thing at a time, one song at a time. He’s not sure that it’s working. 

He doesn’t feel like he’s in control of anything, anymore. The summer is flying by, and with it are so many things he won’t be able to take back, or explain away. Arguments, and silences, and not saying what he means, and not asking the things he wants to ask… Not talking, or talking about the wrong things - not stopping Blaine from planning their entire wedding _without him_. 

It’s the wedding, and it’s not the wedding – it’s something deeper, maybe. Kurt can’t pin it down, this anxiety. It amps something up inside of him, something he doesn’t like, something that reminds him of high school before Dalton and the bottom of the dumpster in the McKinley parking lot – it’s all-consuming, sometimes, and it dulls everything else. 

Kurt glances at his watch. He should leave soon, if he wants to make it to the restaurant on time.

He really doesn’t feel like meeting Blaine for dinner tonight. There’s rain in the forecast, and he wonders if maybe they should just order in. It’s probably too late for that though. Blaine has already left for god knows how many wedding-related errands he’s squeezing in today, and he’d probably chosen the restaurant based on where he’d be coming from so, _fine_ , Kurt thinks. Dinner. It’s been a while since they’ve done Italian, and this place is one of their favorites – low key, quiet, and they can always get a table. It might be nice. They haven’t had a night to themselves in a while.

**

Blaine is fifteen minutes late to the restaurant, and by the time he gets there, it’s been raining for a while.

Later, Kurt will replay the evening in his head over and over so many times that it feels like it took a lifetime to unfold, but all told, he’s probably only there thirty minutes, tops. Blaine is there for far less than that. In Kurt’s memory, he’s there one second, and gone the next. 

The rain pinging off the plastic sheets behind him, the wobbly little table, the menu that he’d stared at for what felt like hours before Blaine arrived – there’s nothing really that noteworthy about any of it. He’d been starving. After much deliberation, he’d decided on broccoli rabe with roasted pork, and spinach ravioli. He was considering ordering for himself, and Blaine, just before Blaine arrived. 

Everything happens so fast that Kurt can’t really process it until much later. Most of their recent, petty fights over nothing had taken infinitely longer than this, which is pathetic, Kurt thinks, and also really, really sad. The most important person in his life, the most important thing in the world, and it’s gone in five minutes. It shouldn’t be possible, but it happens, it’s happening. 

It starts like any other argument they’ve had lately, but boils over much more quickly than usual, like maybe they were halfway there already. Kurt remembers thinking, just before Blaine got there, that he really needs to figure out how to just be _late_ for things, instead of always showing up at least five minutes early, because then it just makes him more angry, the later Blaine is. And Blaine is almost always late. Kurt has known this for years.

It really doesn’t mean anything though, late or early. There’s no grand, deeper meaning to it. Or maybe there is – he’s really not sure anymore.

There’s a spike of adrenaline, and a bright flash of anger and Kurt is listening to Blaine’s voice, and then he’s saying that _maybe he doesn’t want to get married_ , and at first it feels a bit like he’s taken the bait. Like he’s been set up, like he’s acting on a dare, but in the end, he’s the one who said it, not Blaine. And Blaine doesn’t even really contradict him, doesn’t argue, looks at Kurt like he’s been expecting this, or worse, like this had somehow been inevitable.

And then Kurt is saying things that he really can’t take back, and Blaine says he’ll never forgive him with such fierce anger that Kurt believes him instantly. It makes him think that maybe Blaine _shouldn’t_ forgive him, maybe he’s finally gone too far. He’s never seen this much pain and anger in Blaine’s eyes, about anything. 

It’s kind of a relief, really, to discover that there’s actually a breaking point. It feels terrible.

After Blaine leaves the restaurant, Kurt sits there for a while, not moving, completely still. It feels like he’s not breathing, not blinking, like everything inside of him has shut down, but he must at least be breathing, because eventually the waiter comes over, and asks if him if he’d like to order. 

He has no idea how to answer that.

The whole thing is completely unbelievable, and very, very real at the same time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I just started writing this note over about five different times, trying to figure out what to say about this chapter. It really wasn't easy for me to write, because... I like happy endings, when it comes down to it, and there is nothing happy about where this ends up, but hey, at least we're getting closer, right? ;) I really wanted to try and show how Kurt gets to that final scene in a believable way though, and so I really hope I was able to do that. Anyway, thanks as always for reading, and for reliving all of this with me ;) Feedback and thoughts are always welcome :)


	6. Chapter 6

_August, 2014_

It takes Kurt a day and a half before he’s able to reach Blaine.

The first time his voicemail picks up, instead of his voice, it’s a little jarring. Granted, they text more than call each other these days, but still… In the end Blaine really had always done his best to pick up when Kurt called. After around the tenth time, Kurt has come to expect it though, has memorized the outgoing message, has learned its rhythm and its cadence, has become adept at hanging up before the beep.

It’s Friday afternoon now, and outside the loft the sun is bright and hot – it makes everything look over-exposed and blown-out around the edges. Kurt is on his way to work, and is just about to head down into the subway when he tries Blaine again.

This time, Blaine actually answers.

“Blaine?” Kurt says, after listening to about ten seconds of silence. 

He moves off of the sidewalk, and positions himself under the nearest awning, just past the windows of a sandwich shop where Blaine used to sometimes pick up lunch on the weekends. Kurt’s stomach sinks when Blaine still doesn’t say anything. 

“Are you there?” he asks, feeling stupid, because of course Blaine is _there_. Whether he’s there and willing to talk to him is the real question, Kurt figures.

He hears Blaine take a long breath. 

“I’m here,” he says finally, and his voice is worn out and rough, like he’s been sleeping, or crying, or both. Kurt’s face warms immediately. The emotions he’s been trying to push away, and bury somewhere deep inside of him are suddenly right there on the surface. 

“I still have a key to Mercedes’ place,” Blaine says. “So I’m staying here.”

“I thought she rented that out already?” 

“She did. I’m sleeping on the couch.”

Kurt is quiet for a second. He really has no idea how to do this, how to talk to Blaine like this. 

“Well, if you want to, you can sleep on the couch here. You know that, right?” He’d left Blaine half a dozen voice messages offering the same thing. He wonders if Blaine has listened to them. “I left you a message," he says. "Messages.” 

Blaine doesn’t say anything. 

“Blaine, I--”

“I got your messages,” Blaine says, his voice quiet and measured. 

“I was worried,” Kurt says without thinking, and hears Blaine suck in a breath.

“Why?” Blaine asks, angry and dismissive, and then before Kurt can answer, he says, “You know, that first message you left, where you said you weren’t even sure if you ‘meant what you said’? About—“ Blaine’s voice breaks off. “About the wedding,” he finishes, quietly.

“Yes,” Kurt says. 

He knows he should say something else, and he wants to, but there’s a giant lump in his throat already, and just thinking about that conversation at the restaurant is making Kurt’s stomach lurch. There’s a part of him that’s been pretending that maybe all of this hadn’t been such a big deal – that it had just been another argument, in a long line of arguments that they’d been having for months. But hearing Blaine’s voice now, he knows that this is as far from the truth as anything could be. If he’s being honest, he knows it in his heart, too.

“I know that you meant it,” Blaine says. “I knew for a long time. You thought everything was rushed from the beginning. The engagement, the wedding, all of it. You never really wanted this.”

Kurt allows himself to sink to the ground, all the way down to the sidewalk. He leans back against the side of the building, relieved that he doesn’t have to keep himself upright anymore. 

“I think we should talk about it,” Kurt says, because he does, because it’s what he’s been thinking for the last 36 hours, and, for that matter, for the past few months. Maybe they needed this, maybe this would be the thing that changes everything - if he can just talk to Blaine, if they’re honest with each other, then maybe…

He can hear Blaine’s swift intake of breath in his ear, knows that Blaine is crying, can feel the tears sliding down his face, too. 

“I’ve never,” Blaine says, and his voice is fervent and angry and bitter – it’s all the things that scare Kurt about him, sometimes, and all the things that Kurt admires about him too, about his ability to show himself to Kurt like this. “I’ve never thought that for a second. I’ve _never_ felt like it was too soon, or that we were too young, or that things were moving too _fast_. I’ve always just wanted to be with you.”

“Blaine,” Kurt says, and he really doesn’t recognize the sound of his voice anymore, small and desperate and broken like this. He draws his knees in close to his chest. 

“And I don’t know what there is to talk about because I already know,” Blaine is saying, between these horribly long, ragged breaths. “I already know you don’t want--”

Kurt listens as Blaine’s voice dissolves. His hands are shaking. He presses the phone to his ear harder, and tries to pretend he’s somewhere else, anywhere other than in the middle of the sidewalk in broad daylight. He’s finding it hard to breathe. His body feels strange, outside of his control. He should say something - he’d wanted to say something, later that night, all the hours between now and then, but right now, his brain, his voice, his heart – they’re all disconnected. Kurt stares out at the street in front of him, at the shoes and shopping bags parading past him. He’s sure he wouldn’t recognize the person they’re seeing right now. Stupid uniform pants, tears streaming down his face. He wonders why Blaine hasn’t hung up yet. 

“Blaine, I have to go to work,” he says in one quick breath, and it’s not really an excuse, he really does have to go. He’s already late. He feels like he’s pleading though, like he needs Blaine’s permission, even though he’s not even sure what for. “I’m already late. It’s that new manager on tonight, so--” 

“Kurt,” Blaine says, and Kurt really wishes he wouldn’t say his name anymore, not when he sounds like this. “ _Please_ —“

“What?”

“Please don’t call me again.” 

Then he hangs up, and Kurt just sits there for a couple of long minutes, just staring at the people passing in front of him. He feels numb. Everything is out of focus. He can’t really remember how to breathe.

This kind of drama happens all over the city - or so Kurt has heard. Apartments are small, so it’s common to see all kinds of things that should be happening behind closed doors happen right out in the open instead. A big city phenomenon, of sorts.

Kurt pulls himself up slowly. He stands under the awning for a second before he propels himself forward. As he descends into the subway, he wonders how this particular drama measures up. Considering the entire population of the city, eight million plus people, this, honestly, is probably pretty commonplace. It probably wouldn’t even make the top ten, the top _hundred_. 

As the train shudders along the tracks and then dives underground, Kurt tries not to think about Blaine’s voice. He tries not to remember his breathless _please_ in a voice that Kurt had barely recognized, as if the most important thing in the world was just to get Kurt to leave him alone. 

He tries not to think about anything at all. 

**

That night, after a long shift at the diner that verged on endless at times, Kurt arrives home to an empty apartment. One thousand square feet of silence and space. He realizes that he honestly feels a little relieved, like he’s let go of something really heavy.

He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been. How nice it feels not to have to worry about starting each day with an argument, even a stupid, unimportant one like they mostly were - or worse, ending it with one.

He doesn’t think about the messages he’d left Blaine. Or their conversation before his shift, on the sidewalk under that awning, where for several long minutes the edges of his consciousness had felt so heavy and dark, and he’d honestly been afraid he might pass out, because that’s how serious it had felt, the idea of ending this, of everything being over with Blaine. It had made everything feel cold, despite the heat.

Kurt doesn’t think about that now. He doesn’t think about the tone of Blaine’s voice, how he’d sounded like a stranger. Blaine has _never_ sounded like a stranger to Kurt. Even the first day they met, when Blaine had introduced himself, he hadn’t sounded like a stranger. He had always sounded like someone who belonged in Kurt’s life, like someone who _knew_ him.

He doesn’t think about all the words he didn’t say to Blaine, all the things he could have said to try to make Blaine understand. 

He doesn’t think about Blaine’s socks, lined up in neat rows in boxes at the bottom of his wardrobe, not being worn, or about his hair products crowding the edges of the sink in the bathroom. He doesn’t think about the non-refundable down payment they’d given the florist for the wedding, and he doesn’t think about an entire future together - his entire life, planned out, and then offered up to the universe in an instant, a sort of sacrifice, maybe. 

Kurt tries his very best not to think about any of these things. 

**

There's a narrative that he has in his head, and it carries him pretty far – hours, days, a week. It's mostly parsed out from conversations with his dad, who tells him, sympathetically, that he should cut himself some slack, that he's young - they're both so young. There was a lot of pressure. People crack under pressure sometimes, and it's okay. If it's meant to be, it'll happen. They'll come around to each other again. It's okay to take some time off.

It's really not okay though. The realization that he has really, really screwed up this time is not lost on him. He knows that there may not be any coming back from this. He can’t help but feel that if Rachel, if anyone, was here, they’d force him to run back to Blaine, to apologize, to at least try to fix this before it becomes un-fixable. But he knows it’s not as simple as that, and there isn’t anyone here forcing him to do anything. 

The fall placement audition happens, and then the semester starts.

Kurt shows up to class, work, rehearsal. He thinks a lot, but he doesn’t _do_ anything. 

**

Sam calls, out of the blue, from Lima. He’s going to be in town, wrapping up some modeling contract. He wonders if he can stop by. He’s doing a favor for Blaine – he wants to pick up Blaine’s things from the apartment, if that’s okay. Kurt doesn’t have to pack anything up, but if he could just point him in the right direction, that’s all he needs. 

Because, apparently, Blaine hates him so much, he can't even stand for them to be in the same room together anymore. 

It makes Kurt _angry_. Jealousy twists inside of him at the thought of Blaine calling Sam, asking him to come here to do this for him. He knows he’s being irrational. That there’s no reason to begrudge Blaine this friendship, this support. 

It makes it real though, is the thing. It cuts through the wall of fog that seems to have been erected between Kurt and the world, makes this somehow more permanent – a thing that there are words for. An ex-boyfriend, an ex-fiance. Belongings to be collected. A failed engagement. 

**

He packs up Blaine’s things because he wants to, because he knows that it’s a thing he’s capable of. He can’t stand the thought of Sam just tossing everything haphazardly into a box, wrinkled and mixed up and not organized by color, and season. 

He folds Blaine’s crisp shirts, and his sweaters, and his colorful collection of slim-fit chinos very carefully. 

He takes various plastic tubes, and tubs, and bottles from the bathroom and arranges them in a medium-sized cardboard box. Smaller items, lip balm, eye cream, go into appropriately-sized Ziplock bags. It takes him hours; he’s meticulous, careful not to overlook anything. 

He doesn’t cry; his breath doesn’t hitch once until the very end, until he sees everything piled up in a corner of the living room: Blaine’s suitcase, a couple of boxes, the table lamp he’d brought home from a thrift store one Saturday afternoon, months ago. A throw rug that never matched anything, a stack of books. The soda stream machine, because Kurt has always really hated that thing, no matter how much Blaine had tried to convince him otherwise.

It starts as a lump in his throat, and before Kurt knows it, he’s curled up in a ball on the couch, and he can’t catch his breath. He feels utterly and completely alone, really _feels_ it, right down to his bones, and it terrifies him. _Blaine is gone_. Obviously, Blaine has been gone for weeks, and Kurt has been aware of this, has come home every night to an empty apartment, has deflected questions about Blaine at NYADA, but this - looking at all of Blaine’s things piled neatly against the wall by the door - really, really brings it home. 

At NYADA, Blaine hasn’t shown up to any of the classes they’d scheduled together. Kurt figures he’s found some way to switch to other sections, or maybe he’s just dropped the classes altogether. As the days have passed, Kurt has been struck by how completely ridiculous it is that someone who used to be the most important part of his day, of his life - someone who’s still there, who still exists in the same city, the same school - could suddenly just _disappear_. It’s like Blaine has been plucked up and deleted from Kurt’s life, as if he’d never been there in the first place. 

All of the questions he’d been asking himself before – why they were fighting so much, the wedding, what it meant that they weren’t _happier_ , that New York with Blaine wasn’t a perfect utopia of pre-marriage bliss – suddenly none of that matters at all anymore. 

Blaine is gone. 

Kurt has ruined everything, and there’s no going back. 

He’s alone.

And these are all facts that he can more or less deal with, that he’s _been_ dealing with. He doesn’t know what to do with his _heart_ though, or any of these feelings. 

He wishes he could carefully pack them up in a box, too. They’re clearly not going to do him any good – they’ve clearly never done him any good. He can’t though – they’re stuck; lodged inside of him, filling in all sorts of nooks and crannies and miniscule little cracks – he’d never be able to find them all.

This is different than their last break up, when Kurt could be angry, when he could fill up his heart with that, and call it justified. This time all Kurt has to fill anything up with is the realization that he wasn’t strong enough. To accept Blaine’s love. To express his own. 

He doesn't know what he is--what he _was_ \--so scared of. 

Eventually he falls asleep on the couch, and when he wakes up, Blaine’s things are still there in a pile, just like they had been the night before, and he’s still alone.

**

The loft had felt so small, with Blaine there - like they were tripping over each other all the time, getting in each other's way, on each other's nerves, to the point where Kurt just felt like he was being bombarded with evidence of their incompatibility, all the time. 

It was the wedding – so many details, and decisions – and maybe it wasn’t the wedding at all. But Kurt had been overwhelmed, and he suspects Blaine had been, too. His dad said it was normal – reminded him how many hours Kurt had spent on flower arrangements for his wedding with Carole, just for one example. Kurt doesn’t think so; he doesn’t think any of it had been normal. Doesn’t think Blaine sleeping four hours a night, tops, because he couldn't stop searching wedding websites for napkin rings or overhead lighting schemes had been normal.

He’d wanted desperately for something to change, and then it had, and now he wants it to change again, backwards or forwards, it doesn’t really matter. He just wishes _something_ would happen, so that he can stop feeling like everything is so pointless – like he’s wasted the last four years of his life, believing in something that ended up like _this_ in the end. 

**

It’s a Thursday, and on Thursdays, Kurt knows that Blaine has a musical theater history class that meets from five until six-thirty – it’s one of the few classes that he wasn’t going to be sharing with Kurt, and Kurt is fairly certain that he’ll be able to catch him on his way home afterwards. 

It’s a shot in the dark, really, and mostly a spontaneous decision. A selfish one, maybe. Kurt realizes this the second Blaine comes out of the classroom and reluctantly meets his eyes. 

“Can we, um,” Kurt starts, but he’s immediately taken back by the hostility, the anger on Blaine’s face. It’s been a month since that night at the restaurant, and somehow Kurt isn’t expecting this. He forges forward anyway. “Do you mind if we talk?” he says. “Just for… well, I don’t know exactly how--”

“Let me stop you there,” Blaine says. “Yes, I mind.” 

He doesn’t say anything else, and Kurt just stands there for a moment, confused. The rest of the class has filed out and dispersed around them. The teacher is the last one out of the room, and as his back retreats down the hallway, Blaine turns around, and starts to follow him. 

“Wait,” Kurt says, panicking a little. “Blaine, wait!” 

Blaine stops, turns around slowly. Kurt doesn’t really recognize him anymore, he realizes. It’s not just that Blaine’s wearing a shirt that Kurt doesn’t recognize, it’s like everything about him has changed – how he holds himself, how he looks at Kurt most of all, like Kurt is some sort of hostile presence that he can’t wait to get the hell away from.

“What are you doing?” Blaine asks, looking around like he needs to plan an escape route, like he’s mapping out possible exits.

“I don’t know,” Kurt admits. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to talk to you.” 

Blaine is standing in front of him, looking anywhere but Kurt’s face, and there’s something complicated, and guarded about the way he’s holding himself, about the set of his shoulders, his jawline. 

“Blaine,” Kurt says, searching for something familiar, anything to stop this surge of emotion he can feel rising up inside of him. “I—“ 

“No,” Blaine says quickly, and for a second before he turns away again, his face softens into something Kurt almost recognizes, but it’s gone as quick as it came. “I can’t do this.” 

“Do what? You can’t even talk to me now?” 

“You’re not saying anything!” Blaine says, voice rising, eyes wide. His hands are clenched into tight fists at his sides. “If you had something to say you would have said it by now.” 

“You told me not to call you, so I thought I’d come in person, and-- I’m sorry, I didn’t exactly plan this.” 

“Well you should have, because I’m not going to let this happen again.” 

“Let what happen again?”

“I’m not going to let you corner me, and—and--”

And Blaine is doing an okay job of hiding it, ducking his head, and turning away from Kurt, but… Kurt recognizes the movement of his shoulders, can see him swiping at his face. 

“Look,” Kurt says, quietly. “Maybe we should do this somewhere else.” 

“Where? Somewhere where no one from school will see us?” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Kurt says, feeling defeated, underwater already. He shouldn’t have come here. “This was a mistake,” he says. “I’m really sorry.” 

“Me, too,” Blaine says, and Kurt doesn’t wait to hear anything else, just turns and makes his way out of the building. 

Outside, the sky is threatening rain. Kurt walks several blocks in the wrong direction, away from school and the subway, until he turns on a street lined with brownstones, and wrought iron fences. No one is following him – he’s alone on the street, aside a couple of people at the far end of the block, who turn the corner a second later before they disappear from sight. 

Kurt sits down on the bottom step of the first stoop that doesn’t have a gate blocking it. 

It seems ridiculous, to let all of this go. Everything they’ve shared between them, to just let it go like this, without so much as a real conversation, but the look on Blaine’s face in the hallway… He looked like he couldn’t wait to get away from him. Blaine has never looked at him like that before.

It makes Kurt think that maybe he was right - they were never ready for this. 

It’s not about whether or not he meant what he said that night – at least for Kurt, it’s not about that night at all anymore, not really. It’s everything else – it’s Blaine’s things piled into a corner of the living room and Sam making small talk as Kurt helps him carry them down the stairs to his truck. It’s Blaine not picking up the phone and not answering his texts and _not calling_ , and both of them walking away, just now outside that classroom.

It’s about walking away from all of this. And of course, it’s about the horrible things Kurt said that night, whether he meant them or not… It’s about everything they’ve ever shared, everything they’ve ever said, or not said. 

Sometimes Kurt thinks he’d do anything to fix it, get married tomorrow if it meant that everything could go back to the way it was – but there’s just no way to reconcile that fantasy, with the reality of what just happened between them. Blaine could barely even _look_ at him. He doesn’t have any words to explain how they’ve arrived here. 

When it finally starts to rain, the cement at his feet darkens slowly, wet blotches that grow and spread around his shoes, up and onto the steps next to him. Kurt eventually forces himself up, and points himself in what he’s fairly certain is the direction of the subway. 

**

Kurt doesn’t try to contact Blaine again, after that. He spends a lot of time thinking, instead. About this summer, and the wedding, about Blaine’s proposal - about everything, really. 

This had never been about not wanting to marry Blaine. Kurt had always wanted that. He'd told Blaine as much in a McKinley stairwell when he had no idea what he even meant. He would have accepted a gum wrapper from a clueless teenager as proof of everything that one person could conceivably promise to another person. He didn't need Blaine's elaborate proposals, or a ring made of anything other than paper. He knew that Blaine loved him. And he was _always_ going to say yes. 

And still, it had occurred to Kurt fairly early on that maybe Blaine had staged his over-the-top proposal the way he had because he was afraid of giving Kurt the opportunity to say no. (Or _maybe_. Or _yes, but not right now_.) 

It made him feel guilty. Made him wonder why he could never seem to make Blaine feel as loved as he needed to be loved. Because after everything they’d shared between them, Blaine had still thought he might actually say _no_. The more he thinks about it, the more awful it makes him feel. He wonders what exactly it means, that Blaine had chosen a spectacle, had chosen to let Kurt off easy – to make him an offer he couldn’t refuse. 

But Kurt had always been afraid to admit just how much he cared, and he’s not stupid enough to think Blaine didn’t know that, too. 

He tells his therapist all of this, on a chilly, windy Thursday afternoon, in a tiny room in her East Village office. The couch is white leather, and there are so many throw pillows, he always ends up crowded right into the center. He wonders if the pillows are there on purpose, strategically placed, so that her patients don’t ever get too comfortable.

It had taken him about a month and a half, to realize that he was going to lose his mind if he didn’t talk to someone about this, if he didn’t at least try to make sense of why he’d ruined this so spectacularly. 

He’s not sure how it’s going so far. Most of the time he just feels like a silly, emo teenager. Sometimes though, he feels something take hold inside of him, a kind of deep understanding of himself that he’s shied away from for as long as he can remember. 

"Were you comfortable telling him how you felt in those moments, when you were overcome with emotion?"

"No," Kurt whispers, and suddenly it's so obvious. How much he’d been hiding, even from Blaine. "I wasn't. I _didn't_." 

It’s the first time that Kurt wonders if maybe the most important person in his life had never actually known him at all.

**

The loft feels huge without Blaine. The world feels huge, too; it’s hard to navigate, sometimes. Time passes in a blur.

Sam calls, a couple of times. 

"You know he's not going to class, like, at all," he says, from far away Lima, Ohio, where Kurt hasn’t been for what feels like a lifetime.

"I know," Kurt says. He wraps his fingers around his coffee, trying to hold in the warmth that doesn't really reach him. 

He's noticed. Of course he has. How at first he'd occasionally walk past Blaine in the hallway, or in the cafeteria, and then it had just stopped one day. Blaine was there, and then he wasn't. 

"Can you try to talk to him, at least?"

"Trust me, it wouldn't help," Kurt says, voice thin, and quiet. 

"It might." 

Kurt can hear the hope in Sam's voice and tries to remember what that must feel like. 

"Okay," he says, and it's not a lie, he really thinks he can do it. 

But he waits too long, a week, maybe two, before he tries calling Blaine again, and by then Blaine is gone. Has changed his number, is no longer enrolled at NYADA, no longer in New York at all.

**

The loft still feels huge. The city is endless, sometimes. He misses Rachel. 

His therapist tells him he has intimacy issues, which, he supposes, is something he always knew was true. She spends a lot of time asking him about his mother, and Finn, tells him that he needs to spend more time examining his emotions, and being honest with himself, which feels ironic, because he always thought that's what he was doing, pretty much every second of every day. 

It’s like he doesn’t even know himself anymore.

**

Labor Day has long since come and gone - it’s the middle of October, and the weather has started getting cold again, has started turning towards winter. 

Kurt spends a lot of time thinking about things he should have said to Blaine when he’d had the chance. 

He thinks about the last couple of days with Blaine, all that wasted time spent arguing and worrying about a wedding that never happened. He wonders when the last time he’d told Blaine he loved him and really _meant_ it had been… He wonders if Blaine had believed him.

He wishes he’d said those words more often. Not _I love you, too_ , but _I’ve loved you since the day we met. Since you took my hand that day. I loved you **first**_. As if that counts for anything at this point. He’s sure it wouldn’t have made a difference, but he wishes he’d said it all the same.

He writes long letters, at his therapist's suggestion, pours his heart out to Blaine with as much reckless abandon as he can manage. Wine helps, sometimes. Ambien doesn't. But he writes all the time anyway. He tells Blaine everything – all of his fears, how he’s not sure if he believes in love anymore, how he’s not sure if he ever really believed in it, how underneath it all, he’d always been scared - of losing Blaine, of losing everyone, of losing himself. 

He tells Blaine that there are things he’s working on, that the next time they meet, he’ll be _better_. 

He contradicts himself a lot. He tells Blaine that he _wants_ to believe in love again. He tells him that he believes what they shared was real, that it meant something, that it meant everything, that it _still_ means everything. 

He knows he’s supposed to hold on to the letters, that the end result is supposed to be that eventually, he comes to terms with everything that he’s ever felt about this, that the letters are proof, but he throws them away instead – grabs the pages and crumples them into the trash. Sometimes he lights a candle, and watches carefully as the flame overtakes a corner of the paper, and then engulfs it. He even buys an ugly metal trash can from the hardware store around the corner, for safety. It’s cathartic, he tells himself. It’s better than nothing.

**

November arrives, and Kurt is not surprised when he’s the only one who shows up on that street corner on a particularly grey, rainy afternoon. He hadn’t really been expecting a reunion, has a hard time even imagining what that would look like anymore – it’s been so long since he’s talked to anyone from McKinley.

He should probably take it as a sign – _let go_. Move on. 

He writes letters instead. Not just to Blaine. To his mother, to his dad. To Finn, and Rachel, too. 

He even saves some of them. He doesn’t contradict himself quite so much, either – he starts to recognize that his thoughts and his feelings have patterns, starts to understand them. His therapist tells him that he needs to face his fears. That he needs to learn how to forgive himself. It feels impossible, but he tries anyway. 

She tells him he’s doing well, that he’s making progress. Sometimes he believes her. 

**

And then it’s an entirely new _year_. It’s January, and Rachel is back from L.A., is back in Lima, and she says Blaine is there, too. That Blaine is okay, that he's back with the Warblers, that he’s teaching. 

It takes Kurt all of three hours to book a flight back to Ohio. 

He's packing before he's even cleared it with NYADA, before he's even thought about what it will mean for his work study assignment, before he's even had a chance to think very much at all. There’s no question in his mind though – he knows he needs to do this. 

He spends an entire afternoon packing because he can't figure out how to be efficient about it, and packing is something that Kurt is usually really good at. But this time he’s packing, and unpacking, and packing again, feeling a bit manic, unable to figure out what to bring, and what to leave behind when he has no idea if he's coming back next week, or next month, or never. 

He leaves Blaine's blanket on the couch in the loft, the one that used to smell like him, the one that he’d sort of stolen. He’d tried to squeeze it in to his luggage at first, and then he’d changed his mind, and then he’d changed his mind _again_ , before he’d finally just returned it to the couch.

He's sure Blaine doesn't even remember that he has it anymore. It's more his than Blaine’s now, anyway – hasn’t smelled like anything but the loft for months.

And if the past few months have taught Kurt anything, they’ve taught him that sometimes you have to leave something behind to move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess this is sort of the "Kurt coming to terms with his feelings" chapter? Or at least, he's getting much closer. And I hope it all still feels believable... I'd love to hear your thoughts, and... Thanks as always for reading. The end is near! ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I probably could have split this last chapter up, but I couldn’t figure out a good breaking off point, and I also really didn’t want to delay the inevitable any longer! But fair warning, it’s a little longer than the other chapters ;)

_January, 2015_

Kurt arrives in Lima focused and determined, maybe even a little fearless. Now that there’s finally something to focus on, something _real_ , everything that for the past few months has felt pretty much hopeless, and unreachable, well… It’s within reach, now. 

Blaine is _here_. And Kurt is going to get him back. No matter what it takes. No matter how long he has to stay.

And as much as Kurt loves and even misses New York, already, he has to admit that when his dad wraps his arms around his shoulders, and says _good to see you, kiddo_ he knows he’s come home. He’s come back to the beginning. And Kurt has always believed that there’s magic in beginnings.

**

The second Kurt sits down in his bedroom the night after he arrives, the fearlessness all but disappears, of course it does. He’s just about to start unpacking, and the realization hits him hard. This may be the most difficult thing he’s ever done, and there’s a distinct possibility that he might fail. Again. 

And Kurt honestly can’t imagine anything worse than failing at this again, than all of this being _permanent_. He also has no idea where to even start, when it comes to making things right again. He doesn’t even know if Blaine will agree to talk to him. He tries to take a deep breath, but it doesn’t really work; there’s a lump in his throat that just keeps getting bigger and bigger, and that’s the moment that his dad chooses to knock on his door.

His dad takes one look at his face, and doesn’t waste a second, just wraps his arms around his back, and squeezes tight. 

“Kurt, you’re gonna be fine. You know that, right?” 

“Not really,” Kurt admits, but he can’t help but smile a little. The lump in his throat is fading, too – he can actually breathe again. “But I appreciate the sentiment.” 

“Well, you better,” his dad tells him. 

The exaggerated gruffness in his voice doesn’t quite make it to his eyes. It’s comforting, somehow, makes Kurt feel loved in a way he’d almost forgotten about. 

“It’s really nice to be back, Dad.” 

“It’s great to have you back.” 

His dad pauses, looks around Kurt’s room for a moment, at the suitcase in the corner, at the framed photos from high school over on the bookshelf that Kurt has avoided looking at since he arrived.

“But Kurt,” he says, “you should know that I don’t expect you to stick around forever. School is important – no matter what else you have going on.” 

His dad’s face is serious. Kurt realizes that this is probably the reason he knocked on the door in the first place, and it makes sense. A last minute trip, right at the beginning of the semester. Of course he’s worried. Kurt takes a deep breath, and tries not to squirm. It’s not that he needs his dad’s approval to do this, he’s going to win Blaine back either way, but… He’s not sure if he can handle disappointing him on top of everything else right now.

“I know school is important. And I would never do anything that would compromise any of that,” Kurt says carefully. “But you know that Blaine is--“

“He’s back,” his dad says, nodding. “I heard.” 

Kurt’s breath catches in his throat for a second. 

“So I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of what’s going on with this visit.”

Kurt really hadn’t realized his intentions were so obvious. It makes him feel unexpectedly vulnerable, and small, his dad knowing that he’s come back for something like this, when he has no idea if Blaine will even _speak_ to him. His eyes cloud over for a moment.

“You still love him, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Kurt says, and saying it out loud makes him realize just how deeply he means it, regardless of his chances when it comes to success. “More than ever. So I need to talk to him. To try to--to fix things. I know it won’t be easy, but I have to try.”

His dad is quiet for a moment. 

“You think it’s a stupid idea,” Kurt says, feeling like an idiot. “Well, it probably is, but--”

“I never said that, Kurt.” 

“You think it’s good idea?” 

“You know it doesn’t matter what I think when it comes to this.” 

Kurt nods – he’s heard some version of this advice a couple of times before. His dad has always been very good at not putting himself in the middle when it comes to Blaine.

“But for the record… It doesn’t sound like the worst idea you’ve ever had. I am pretty fond of the guy, after all.”

Kurt lets out a relieved breath. Okay, so maybe he _had_ needed some kind of approval after all.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” Kurt says, meaning it. 

“You just make sure you don’t lose sight of _you_. You need to look out for yourself too, okay?”

“I know,” Kurt says. “I think I’m getting better at that.”

“And don’t be afraid to let him know how you really feel.”

“I know, I’m not,” Kurt says quickly.

“Bullshit,” his dad says, but there’s a fondness in his eyes that for a moment, makes Kurt feel like maybe everything _will_ be okay.

“Okay, fine, maybe I’m terrified. But that’s not going to stop me.” 

“That’s more like it,” his dad tells him, smiling. “Just remember – you owe it to him to be honest. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. It’s the most important thing you can give someone.” 

**

Kurt has always considered himself to be a fairly honest person. He doesn’t compromise his beliefs for anything, and he’s not afraid to hold unpopular opinions – to broadcast them, even.

But when it comes to certain things, Kurt has come to realize that honesty can be lot more complicated. That uncompromising, confident truth works like a protective shell sometimes, too. It’s efficient, even when it comes to things that really matter.

It’s something that Kurt has done for as long as he can remember. He takes his feelings and folds them up, files them away into neat little boxes, deep inside himself. It’s gotten him through some pretty tough times in the past. His mother’s death, for one, and then afterwards, all those awkward nights with his dad, trying to figure out the basics all over again. 

It got him through middle school, too, for that matter, and his first year at McKinley, before choir, before Dalton and Blaine. It got him through losing Finn. 

It had never occurred to Kurt that he would do the same thing when it came to Blaine. After all, the best thing about meeting Blaine had been all the things he had made Kurt _feel_. Feelings so strong, and so deep that he could barely contain them; they practically burst out of him. Blaine had made him feel alive at a time when he’d been in a pretty dark place - he’d turned everything around in an instant. Feelings for Blaine had never been a problem for Kurt. 

But it’s more complicated than that. And that’s the part that’s still hard for Kurt to understand. He’s getting there, though. He recognizes that when he’s stressed, he gets anxious, and when he gets anxious he shuts people out. He knows that he’d shut Blaine out, in all kinds of ways – that he hadn’t been honest about the things he was afraid of. 

And he’d been really afraid. Of marrying Blaine, of tying himself to another person, and then losing him. Kurt knows that people get lost all the time. Spouses. Brothers. Parents. He’d been afraid of handing his heart over, of giving Blaine everything, when he knows that it could all go away in an instant, that there are no guarantees. And it just hadn’t felt like there was any good way to say that that to Blaine, to even _think_ it, when in the end, Kurt really wanted this. He wanted to be swept off his feet. He _loved_ Blaine, and he wanted to believe that maybe there _were_ guarantees, that maybe loving someone this much really was as powerful as it felt sometimes. Maybe it would protect him.

The thing with Blaine though, is that protecting himself, not feeling things - it hadn’t _worked_. He’s spent the better part of a year trying to run away from this and it just hasn’t worked. Blaine is different.

**

And then Rachel is telling him that yes, Blaine will meet him, and suddenly it’s just _happening_. He’s at Scandals, and Blaine is right there in front of him, it’s now or never. 

Kurt really doesn't mean to throw it all out there at once, had meant to warm up to it, maybe, but sitting here at the bar as the music thumps in his chest, waiting for Blaine, he's kind of psyched himself out. He’s convinced himself that if he doesn’t say it right away – at least the part about wanting Blaine back - he'll never do it, and so... He rushes it. Blurts it out. It’s not pretty, and it's difficult to read the reaction on Blaine's face. And then, of course, Kurt finds out why. 

Of all the things he imagined Blaine might say to him in this moment, he honestly hadn't considered this option. It's incredibly stupid of him. Obviously, it should have been the _first_ option he considered, but... He'd just kind of assumed that because he'd found dating pretty much completely impossible, that Blaine would have too. 

They're different people though. Kurt knows this, he’s just not prepared. Not for this, and certainly not for Dave Karofsky. But Dave is _right there_ , and the realization that this is an actual, real thing that's happening comes all at once, with such overwhelming force that Kurt has to concentrate really, really hard not to lose his balance when he gets up to politely, calmly, extract himself from the situation. 

He wills his legs, his body to _move_ , and they do, it does. It's possibly the longest thirty seconds of his life, walking away from that table, navigating past shoulders and elbows and all sorts of long-limbed obstacles that have somehow emerged between himself and the door to the bathroom. But he makes it, somehow. He survives. 

**

It doesn't really get any easier, the more time he has to get used to it. If anything, it gets harder. It's no longer something that exists at a table in Scandals, it's everywhere. At McKinley, at Dalton - everywhere. 

He needs to regroup. Not give up, he’s not giving up, but… A change of strategy, maybe. He has to learn to be patient. He’d been planning on that anyway, had never expected that Blaine would just take him back no questions asked, but… This is a different kind of patience. 

**

Kurt has never been more grateful to Rachel, for giving him something to do. Even when they butt heads, and even when most of the time he feels like he’s taking a backseat to her plans, it feels good. Teaching feels good – connecting with people feels good. 

Seeing Blaine feels good, too, sometimes, which is confusing, given the situation, but Kurt has decided that he’s done pushing his feelings away. He’s just going to go ahead and feel everything, now, for better or for worse. 

As expected, there are some awkward moments with Blaine – moments that seem suspended in time, where they run into each other unexpectedly in the hallway at McKinley, or once, at the grocery store downtown, under hideous fluorescent lights that buzz above them, next to rows and rows of breakfast cereal in brightly colored boxes. Kurt never really knows what to do in those moments, can’t seem to figure out the exact right way to arrange his face, but it seems like a small price to pay for the light that Kurt sees sometimes in Blaine’s eyes when he smiles at him, and for just a second, everything is almost normal between them. It’s no price at all, really. 

Of course there are some terrible moments, too. Moments when Blaine is so close, and so far away at the same time, and there seems to be no way that Kurt will ever close the distance. There are moments when it’s all Kurt can do to hold himself together. And there are moments when he doesn’t even do that, when he can’t help but shed a few tears against Rachel’s shoulder as she promises him that he’ll get through this, that everything will be okay. 

**

Right around the time Kurt finds out that Blaine is moving in with Dave, and Santana professes her love for Brittany in the choir room - he realizes that he may need to consider letting go, just a little. It’s as if all he’s capable of feeling lately is _jealousy_ – he knows it’s petty and that it will get him nowhere, but it burns so deeply inside of him sometimes that he’s convinced he may actually explode. He has to let go.

Not of his feelings – he doesn’t plan on those going anywhere anytime soon, but of the idea of winning Blaine back in the way he’d initially imagined. There was something his therapist had told him back in New York, about allowing himself to feel things without considering the outcome, good or bad. To just feel what’s in his heart, and let go of everything else. 

It had never really worked for Kurt before, but he figures it can’t hurt to try again. He tells himself he’s not trying to get back together with Blaine, he’s just here, in Lima, teaching with Rachel and sure, he’s in love with Blaine, but that’s because Blaine looks amazing in that shawl-collar Rag & Bone cardigan, and because Blaine is wonderful and charismatic and talented, and also because he just happens to be Kurt’s ex-fiancé, and that kind of history is hard to set aside. 

Kurt is allowed to have these feelings; he doesn’t have to act on them. He can be patient. He’s done it before. 

**

At first the idea of dating seems ridiculous – just because Blaine is clearly fine with it, and has been for a while, it doesn’t mean that Kurt is ready to put himself out there like that again. But after Rachel, and Brittany, and _Sam_ all suggest different online matchmaking apps to him in a 48-hour period, Kurt wonders if maybe he should at least entertain the possibility. At the very least, it would put him on more even ground with Blaine. 

It’s not like it’s an entirely new idea, either– Kurt had tried dating in New York. It just hadn’t gone particularly well. His therapist had brought it up during one of their sessions, had told him that forcing himself outside his comfort zone was important, that it didn’t matter if he felt ready, that he might never _feel_ ready. 

At least with speed dating there had been a level of control there that Kurt could appreciate - a time limit, and prescribed talking points. There was a part of Kurt that had been curious, too, about who else he might find out there. 

Everyone had seen right through him, though. It was embarrassing, hearing someone who had just laid eyes on him a minute and a half ago, declare how completely obvious it was that he wasn’t over his ex. Kurt had felt like an idiot. At his next session, he told his therapist that clearly he’d been right – he wasn’t ready, and he wasn’t going to force it anymore. 

He hadn’t felt any more ready when the hot guy from behind the desk at the gym asked him out. That date had been over before it had started – Kurt had sort of seen through himself, that time. And he’d been left feeling like an idiot, again.

The fact that he’s trying it again now, it doesn’t mean that he’s letting go of his feelings for Blaine. He’s just opening himself up to other options – this is what people do. And at the very least, Kurt could use a friend.

**

On his third date with Walter – who is smart and kind, and offers friendship with no strings attached, and doesn’t pressure Kurt in the least for anything else - they’re halfway through their second bottle of wine when the topic of Blaine finally comes up. 

Walter tells Kurt that he could sort of see all along that Kurt had been holding something back, that he’d suspected maybe Kurt had been through a bad break-up, but had been hesitant to ask about the details. Kurt swallows hard, and tries to keep his voice steady, neutral.

“He was my first boyfriend. We were engaged, and I broke it off. It was my fault,” Kurt says, blinking, swiping a tear away from his cheek, embarrassed. “Sorry,” he says. He closes his eyes and sees Blaine’s face, and suddenly this is like every other time he’s tried this. Hopeless.

“It’s okay,” Walter says. “It sounds like maybe you want to talk about it.” 

“Is it that obvious?” Kurt asks. He tries to smile.

“Yes, Kurt, it really is.” 

Then Walter pats his knee gently, and Kurt does his best to tell him the truth – that he’d come back to Lima for Blaine, that it hadn’t worked out. That Blaine is dating someone else, and that Kurt is, well, he’s _here_. He’s here, but he hasn’t completely let go.

It goes better than he thought it would. 

Walter doesn’t kick him out of his apartment, doesn’t say they shouldn’t see each other anymore, just squeezes Kurt’s shoulder, and says that he’s happy he told him. Kurt finishes off the rest of the wine in his glass in one go, and is grateful, as always, for Walter’s kindness, for his generosity. 

** 

And then Kurt finds himself staring at Blaine in the dim light of the elevator that’s clearly not an elevator at all, where they’ve been trapped for what feels like days. 

Blaine says, “I never hated you, you know,” completely out of the blue, and for a second, Kurt is speechless. 

These have been some of the weirdest hours of Kurt’s entire life, and this conversation is no exception. Blaine is staring at him over the dark curve of his knees. His sweater is on the floor next to him, not folded, just lying there, inside out and abandoned. 

“I know it probably seems like I did,” Blaine says. “But I didn’t.” 

They’ve arrived at a particularly low point in the whole elevator experience - the novelty has long since worn off. They’re both exhausted, and have started to really, honestly consider the fact that they may never get out of this tiny room, may never actually see daylight again. 

And so it probably makes sense that things have taken a philosophical turn. Kurt is still pretty much floored by the direction the conversation has gone in though, at the words coming out of Blaine’s mouth right now. It takes him a while to find his voice. 

“Well, considering that we’re quite possibly trapped in here for the rest of eternity,” Kurt says finally, his voice deliberately light. “I’m glad to hear that.” 

“I thought I did, for a while,” Blaine continues, meeting his eyes again for a second, and then looking somewhere into the wood paneling past Kurt’s shoulder. “I thought a lot of things.” 

“You had every right to hate me,” Kurt says carefully, still trying to keep his voice neutral. “I certainly wouldn’t have blamed you.” 

“That’s not the point,” Blaine says quietly. “Never mind.” 

“Ancient history, right?” Kurt says, and then of course he realizes that the last thing he wants to do is make light of this. He takes a deep breath, and prepares himself to say something that may or may not be a good idea. 

“Look, Blaine, I know this is kind of a weird situation already, so this may not be the best timing, depending on how you look at it, but I’m just going to say it. If there’s anything that you want to get off your chest, I’m here, and I’ll listen.” Blaine looks surprised for a second. “I mean it, I’m not just saying that because we’re trapped in here. I--” Kurt swallows. “I really mean it.” 

There’s a long moment that passes – it’s hard to tell how long; time seems to have sort of stopped in here anyway, but it’s long enough for Kurt to change positions on the floor, to stretch his legs out in front of him and just look at Blaine. All rules seem to be off at this point, so Kurt just stares at Blaine’s profile, at his long eyelashes, at the smooth curve of his jawline. It’s been so long since he’s been able to do this, to just _look_ at Blaine.

“I was so angry at you,” Blaine says. “I wanted to call you, so many times, but I was so _angry_ , I thought if I did, I’d say something horrible to you, and that was the only thing that seemed worse than… How I already felt.”

Kurt listens, tries to stop his heart from pounding so loudly in his chest. He’s not sure what he expected, asking Blaine to talk to him about this, but… He definitely didn’t expect this _much_. Then again, Blaine has always been so much better at this than Kurt. He closes his eyes. 

“Honestly, I thought I was going to die,” Blaine says. He punctuates his words with a little huff of breath at the end, like it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world to think, but Kurt knows that it’s not, knows that he felt exactly the same way. “I mean, I really believed I might. For a long time. Not that I was going to do it myself, or anything like that, but… I’d never felt anything like that before. I’d never felt so alone. I thought I’d never get over it.” 

Kurt is quiet. It feels a bit like any remaining air they’d had left in the room has vanished. 

“I know what you mean,” he says, finally. He considers his next words carefully, knows that they’re probably pretty inadequate, but also knows that he has to say them anyway, that he wants to. “I’m really sorry, Blaine. For everything.”

“Me, too,” Blaine says, quietly. 

Kurt is sure that his heart actually stops beating in his chest for several seconds. He doesn’t trust any other words to come out right, so he just watches Blaine’s face as Blaine stares right back at him. Even like this, even when he has no idea what’s going to happen next, there’s still something so comfortable and familiar between them, something they haven’t had, maybe, until finding themselves here, in this situation. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be, when it comes down to it.

Kurt blinks, wipes a tear away from his cheek. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m just really happy that you don’t—you didn’t—hate me.” 

Blaine’s eyes soften around the edges a little. 

“Never, Kurt,” he says, and then, surprisingly, miraculously, he closes his palm over Kurt’s hand for a moment. 

It’s just for a second, maybe two, but it’s such a familiar gesture, something Blaine used to do when he was trying to make a point, or when he knew Kurt needed reassurance or support. 

It makes Kurt’s heart surge in his chest, makes him want to hold on, to squeeze Blaine’s hand tightly, to never let go, but he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do anything, just lets Blaine’s hand rest there until he picks it up again. He resists the urgency he feels in his heart, lets the moment go. 

He glances at Blaine a moment later, takes in the dark, unreadable expression in Blaine’s eyes before he stands up, before they move on to more practical matters, like figuring out how to escape from this place before they starve to death, or before the invitational ends. 

**

The air feels a little lighter between them after that - they laugh a little more easily, they’re quicker to smile. The idea of escaping feels a little less urgent, it starts to feel more like reconnecting, like getting to know each other all over again. Blaine asks about Kurt’s dad, says he’s been meaning to call him, to check in on him, and he sounds so genuine, Kurt actually believes him. Before he really has a chance to think it through, he’s saying that maybe Blaine should come over for dinner one night, that his dad would probably be really happy to see him. Blaine says _yes, of course_ and smiles so brightly it makes Kurt’s stomach flip. 

And when they finally give in, and decide that they actually do need to get out of this place, for all sorts of perfectly practical reasons – honestly, the moment when Blaine’s lips touch his, it feels like coming home. Like New York, and Lima, and bright stage lights, and soaring duets, and _Blaine_ , all rolled into one. 

It feels like letting go of months and months of longing and pain and grief, and it definitely feels like it means something, despite whatever promises they’ve made to each other beforehand. It’s a little overwhelming, too. Kurt allows desire to uncoil from somewhere deep inside of him, as Blaine’s hands grasp at his sides, and his palms press against his face, and his neck. It feels like it lasts forever, but at the same time, it’s not nearly long enough. 

There’s something almost desperate in Blaine’s eyes when they pull away. 

And then the doors open, and they both make a run for it, as if their lives depend on it. 

They’re back at McKinley. The invitational has already started and they’re breathless, and standing backstage in the auditorium. Rachel is there, and the Warblers are there, and suddenly everything is back to normal, and it’s like nothing in the elevator had ever even happened. 

**

Over the next couple of weeks, between PG-rated dates with Walter, and choir rehearsals, and dinners at Mr. Schue’s place, and the occasional run-in with Blaine and Dave, Kurt is all over the place.

Sometimes he’s hopeful. Other times he’s bitter. Lots of times he’s just sad. He knows that there’s a lot of baggage that he’s carrying around, and he’s doing his best to let some things go, but it’s hard.

Kurt notices the way Blaine looks at him sometimes, his features unguarded in a way that Kurt hasn’t seen in a long time. He sees the way Blaine’s face lights up sometimes when Kurt enters a room, and he notices the energy he feels when their eyes meet unexpectedly, across the stage or the auditorium or the choir room. He wonders if Blaine thinks about that kiss in the elevator – if he can remember it without his stomach swooping down into his knees, because Kurt sure as hell can’t.

But he also can’t help but read the signs. Blaine is seeing someone else. They’re _living together_. Kurt can’t ignore the fact that sometimes he seems genuinely happy, being with someone who isn’t Kurt. He has no idea what to do with that, or with the guilt he feels sometimes, wishing he never had to see Blaine smile for anyone other than him. 

And Walter is nice, and handsome, and doesn’t ask anything of Kurt except his company. He listens to Kurt when he doesn’t have to, when Kurt is having a bad day, when he’s frustrated, because everything feels so unfair, and he’s convinced that Blaine and Dave are flaunting themselves in front of him on purpose, like Blaine has something to prove, as if any of that _matters_ to him in the first place.

And so Kurt allows himself to be kissed outside on the porch, under the glow of the tiny light above the door, for the first time since high school. Walter had asked permission first, which was sweet, and Kurt had granted it, hoping for the best. 

It’s over so quickly though, and it doesn’t make Kurt feel anything at all, except sad, and empty, and maybe a little cruel.

He apologizes to Walter later that night, for his awkward, too-fast exit, and Walter says it’s fine, they can take it as slowly as Kurt wants. Kurt hangs up the phone, but he already knows that it doesn’t matter how slow they take it - he’s not ready for any of this. 

Because at the core of everything there’s just _Blaine_. This person that Kurt has loved, has admired from the day they met. The only person Kurt has ever considered building his life with. There are a lot of really wonderful memories that Kurt is not eager to let go of, and sometimes he thinks he’s relived all of them since coming back to Lima. Of course he remembers the fights, too, and he spends a lot of time remembering the look on Blaine’s face that night at the restaurant in the rain, the look that says that Kurt has let him down, that whatever it is that Kurt has to give, it’s not enough.

Over time, his thoughts have distilled. A lot of things have fallen away. And Kurt knows that it’s not easy, or simple, that if it had been, New York would have worked the first time, or the second time, and so obviously it’s not simple at all, but it feels that way, sometimes, this feeling that Kurt has held onto, deep in his heart.

He’d been scared, and he’d tried to run away and it hadn’t worked, and Kurt thinks that maybe it’s because Blaine is where he _belongs_ , that maybe that’s all there is to it.

Some days, it’s all very clear.

**

When Blaine kisses him again, outside Rachel’s house, there’s no adamant disclaimer beforehand, voiding its meaning. No one is forcing Blaine to lean in and press his lips to Kurt’s, out there in the dark, with a house full of their friends just inside. This is Blaine, looking at Kurt like he’s the only person in the world he’s ever wanted to kiss, and then _doing_ it. 

Kurt doesn’t sleep much that night, or the next night, or the night after that. 

Something had happened between them at Rachel’s, even before the kiss. During their duet, or maybe it had started before that – when they were rehearsing earlier that afternoon, Kurt’s not sure, but something between them felt different. It felt like maybe Blaine had actually started to _trust_ him again. Maybe it was just trusting him not to fall off pitch during their song, or maybe it was that he trusted him to show up, to give one hundred percent of himself to their performance, because it always meant something when Kurt was singing with Blaine. The specifics don’t really matter, it’s the _feeling_. And it feels amazing. It feels like something has changed, like it’s changing, right now.

**

And then Walter is practically pushing him out the door of the Lima Bean, telling him things about young love and seizing the moment and not letting go, and Kurt knows, suddenly, that Walter is right and that this is _it_ , this is the moment when everything is going to change for good.

Kurt is out of breath, can feel the heat burning in his cheeks, but he doesn’t wait, he just knocks, and then he knocks again, a little frantically. Before he knows it he’s bursting through the door to Blaine’s apartment, and Blaine is saying _there’s no one else_ like he can’t get the words out fast enough and Kurt is one hundred percent convinced that this is what his entire life has led up to. All of the missteps, the tears, they’ve all led up to this. Because Blaine is in his arms, and Kurt has him _back_ , and it has to be for good, this time.

There are boxes everywhere and no matter how careful they try to be they keep knocking into them and somewhere in the back of Kurt’s head he’s thinking that this is because Blaine is moving out, like Brittany said he was, and that before that he’d moved _in_ , but none of that matters anymore. The only thing that matters is Blaine, and Blaine’s fingers, fumbling with the buttons of his vest, and Blaine’s voice saying _come here_ and _Kurt, let me close the door_ and _god, I missed you so much_. 

A second later, Blaine is laughing against his lips, and Kurt can feel it in his chest, and he just _knows_ \- everything is going to be fine. Better than fine, it’s going to be wonderful, and Blaine is pressed up against him so tightly, saying his name between wet, messy kisses along his jaw and his neck and Kurt still can’t breathe, has never actually caught his breath, but it doesn’t matter. He’s _here_. He finally made it.

**

“I’m so sorry, Blaine,” Kurt says, when he’s figured out how to breathe properly again. For a while, these are the only words that Kurt can manage, and he just says them over and over until Blaine stops him, actually covers his lips with his fingers. They’re on the couch, and Blaine’s face swims in front of his eyes, he’s so close.

“Stop,” Blaine says, quietly. “Kurt, _stop_. It’s okay.” 

“Are you sure?” Kurt asks, and Blaine is nodding, and his fingers are all twisted up in Kurt’s hair and his eyes are wide and dark and so, so beautiful. “Because I really screwed up,” Kurt says. “I ruined everything, and I--- Blaine, I’m so sorry. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Blaine says, and his face is serious for a long moment before he smiles, huge and bright. “Yes, Kurt, I’m sure – yes. _Yes_.” 

This goes on for a while, until Kurt runs out of words, until he runs out of ways to apologize and Blaine runs out of ways to say _I’m sorry, too_ , and _yes, Kurt, I already told you **yes**_. 

There are kisses, and tears, and Blaine’s hands are all over Kurt’s face, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of it, and Kurt is curling his fingers around Blaine’s arms and their hips are slotted together, and Kurt’s knee is wedged so deeply into the side of the couch cushions he can barely move. There are too many points of contact at once – Kurt doesn’t know where to direct his attention. At some point he allows his arms to go limp and boneless and just sinks down against Blaine’s chest, and breathes, feels the weight of Blaine’s arms against his back.

The room comes back into focus eventually. Rational plans are made. They can’t stay here all day, Dave will be back from practice soon, they need to move.

And so Blaine grabs his jacket, and finds his keys, and his bag, and they lock up partially packed boxes, and piles of folded clothes behind the door to Dave’s apartment that Blaine does not live in anymore, and they leave, they move forward. Their palms press together, and they squint in the sunlight, and Kurt almost sneezes, it’s so _bright_. 

**

“I was selfish,” Kurt says, much later, into the space between Blaine’s collarbone, and his chest, against his bare skin. “I wanted to be alone. I think I needed to be, and I didn’t know how to tell you. Or how to tell myself. I didn’t know how long I needed, I just… I didn’t know anything. And I took it out on you. I shut you out.” 

“I know, Kurt. And it’s okay. Everything’s okay now,” Blaine says, and Kurt curls into his chest, stretches his long legs against Blaine’s side. They’ve been over this already, have apologized to each other half a dozen times today, but Kurt can’t seem to stop coming up with new ways to say all of this to Blaine. He’s afraid that if he doesn’t, he’ll leave something important out. He doesn’t want to leave anything out, ever again. 

He can hear his dad and Carole moving around downstairs. Kurt is grateful, and more than a little embarrassed, by the abundance of privacy they’ve been granted today. 

“I’d understand if it wasn’t,” Kurt says. “I want you to know that.”

“But it _is_ , Kurt,” Blaine says. When Kurt tilts his head up, Blaine is just looking at him, and there’s a fondness in his eyes that makes something warm spread through Kurt’s stomach. “When I think back to last summer, everything just feels so confused. I was going through a lot of stuff back then, too.”

“You were trying to make lots of things work at the same time, the wedding…” Kurt says, listening for a moment to Blaine’s heart in his chest, steady and calm. “The wedding was important.” 

“Yeah, but I drove myself a little crazy, I think. I wanted everything to be perfect. I thought that was the only way you’d be happy.” Blaine lets out a breath into the space above him. “It’ll be different, this time…” 

“It feels different,” Kurt agrees. “It has ever since I came back to Lima.” 

Blaine nods. “The important things are the same though,” he says, and Kurt shifts around, props himself up on one arm, so that he can look down at Blaine’s face.

“There were a lot of things that I really needed to figure out,” Blaine says. He sits up, drawing his knees to his chest under the covers. “And I needed to do that without you. I had to learn how to do all of this without you. Otherwise I’d never stop…”

Kurt sits up and moves a little closer to Blaine, close enough that their shoulders press together. 

“Stop what?”

“Being so afraid of losing you.” 

He finds Blaine’s hand and squeezes it. “You actually figured out how to do that?” 

“No,” Blaine says. He leans his head on Kurt shoulder for a second. “Not really.”

“Well, if you ever figure it out, let me know. I could use some pointers.” 

“Okay,” Blaine says quietly. He squeezes Kurt’s hand. 

And Kurt can’t help it, he’s sniffling and reaching over Blaine for the box of tissues that he’s probably used half of today alone. And then he’s blowing his nose noisily, and apologizing. Blaine runs his fingers along the back of Kurt’s neck, and then rests his hand there, a warm, solid presence. 

“There are a lot of things that I’m still afraid of,” Kurt says. “And losing you… Losing you has always been the biggest, the most important, the worst thing. It’s the worst thing to be afraid of. People get lost, Blaine,” Kurt says, shutting his eyes. “They get lost, and—and— They don’t come _back_.”

“Kurt, hey, come here,” Blaine says, and his palms are pressed against Kurt’s jaw, and he’s wiping away Kurt’s tears with his thumbs, and it forces Kurt to open his eyes in surprise. 

“That’s not us,” Blaine says. He presses a quick kiss to Kurt’s lips. “Not any more. We’re not going to get lost. You’re not going to lose me. And I’m not—I’m not going to lose you.” 

“Okay?” Blaine asks a second later, pressing another kiss to Kurt’s lips. His eyes are honest and open and right there in front of Kurt, and Kurt wants to believe him. He’s not sure he can do that, but he also knows that he’s more willing than ever, right now in this moment, to try. 

“Okay,” Kurt says, and thinks that there may not be any guarantees, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something really wonderful here, it doesn’t mean that words aren’t powerful, or that Kurt can’t believe in them, in Blaine, because he does, he _will_.

**

Over breakfast the next morning, after they’ve been left alone, again, Kurt stares at Blaine for a moment over the last few bites of his French toast. He’s two cups of coffee in to the day, and he still doesn’t feel quite awake yet. His head feels fuzzy, but in a good way. It had been very hard to extract himself from Blaine’s arms this morning – it feels a bit like part of him is still there in bed, Blaine’s arm draped over his chest lazily, loose curls from the top of his head tickling Kurt’s chin.

Blaine is staring at him curiously over one of Carole’s oversized coffee mugs. It’s hideous and covered with bright neon flowers, and Blaine’s fingers barely fit around its base. Kurt smiles anyway, because Blaine is sitting here in his kitchen, and that’s kind of amazing.

“I love you,” Blaine says, and then he takes a sip of coffee, and smiles a little sheepishly at Kurt. “Sorry, I say that too much, don’t I.” 

“No such thing,” Kurt says, but then Blaine’s face darkens a little and Kurt reaches out his hand instinctively, grateful when Blaine’s hand folds easily into his. 

“Kurt, I know I said this before, but I want you to know that I really mean it. I never stopped,” Blaine says. “Dave was— He was really good to me. I was such a mess, and he was so patient,” Blaine says, and Kurt closes his eyes, breathes, concentrates on the weight of Blaine’s hand in his. “But I want you to know that I never stopped loving you.”

“Blaine, I never stopped either,” Kurt says when he can find his voice again. Kurt has always been amazed by Blaine’s ability to take his breath away with his words, and this, right now, is no exception. “Walter is a great guy – he put up with a lot of crap from me, but… I never stopped thinking about you.”

There’s a moment that stretches between them, and then, suddenly, Blaine lets out a light laugh, and tightens his grip on Kurt’s hand. 

“What?” 

Blaine shakes his head. “Nothing, I’m just happy. That you didn’t stop. That you showed up on my doorstep. I’m just really happy. And Kurt? Just so we’re clear… I will _never_ stop loving you. Never.”

Kurt closes the distance between them then, pulls Blaine up and out of his chair, presses his back against the refrigerator door and revels in the look of surprise in Blaine’s eyes as he buries his fingers in his hair and kisses him, deep and a little messy. Blaine tastes like coffee, and the hot chocolate powder he always sprinkles into his mug, and it’s all Kurt can do to contain himself, to contain how happy he is in this moment, at being able to kiss these lips again, whenever, wherever he wants to, for as long as possible. 

**

The hours kind of blur together after that, and before he knows it, very nearly time to leave for Brittany and Santana’s wedding. They definitely need to be out the door in the next fifteen minutes unless they want to be completely rushed. It’s a long drive, and being late really isn’t an option today. Brittany had been extremely adamant about the entire wedding party being there on time, and Kurt knows better than to get on the wrong side of a bride on her wedding day.

"So what is it with us and weddings, anyway?" Kurt asks, as he makes a last minute adjustment to his bowtie in the mirror. Blaine stands next to him, pinning his corsage to his lapel. He frowns a little, unpins it, tries again.

"What do you mean?" 

“It just seems like maybe we have kind of a _thing_ , with weddings… You know, when you called me, before Mr. Schue's wedding, that was the first time I really thought maybe we had a chance again," Kurt says. 

"Really?" Blaine asks, sounding a little incredulous. 

"Oh yeah, I... Well, I had kind of a mini-breakdown on the subway platform on my way to dinner that night."

"I had no idea," Blaine says. He squeezes Kurt’s shoulder. 

"I cried all the way from Times Square to West 4th," Kurt says. "It wasn’t pretty. And then I had to lie to Rachel after I got to the restaurant because it was so embarrassing. I told her I'd been watching Dawson’s Creek on my phone on the train."

Blaine gives Kurt’s shoulders another quick squeeze, and then he raises his eyebrows curiously. 

"Dawson’s Creek?"

"It was a phase," Kurt says, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, I was terrified." 

"Of what?" 

"Of you, of us. Of me. I don't know. I was just scared. I could feel myself being pulled back in." 

"Kind of like now?" 

Kurt nods. "I'm not scared this time though. It's different,” Kurt says. Blaine is standing there next to him, looking perfect in his tuxedo – confident and beautiful and his. He swipes his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. "I swear, I’m not--” He breathes. “God, weddings make me so emotional.” 

“I know,” Blaine says, and there’s a soft smile on his face that makes Kurt’s heart flutter, just a little. 

“No, today I’m just happy,” Kurt says, because he wants to make absolutely sure that they’re clear on this. “Really, really happy.” 

"Me, too," Blaine says, and kisses him, sweet, and a little possessive. It sends a shiver of tiny fireworks down Kurt’s spine. 

"God, Kurt," Blaine says against the corner of his mouth. "You make me so happy.”

“And just for the record,” Blaine says, after they’ve extracted themselves from each other, and smoothed out the wrinkles from their jackets, and sworn, for the second time this morning that they’re not touching each other again until _after_ they’ve fulfilled their duties to Brittany and Santana. “I think you’re right. We do have a thing with weddings. I mean, as soon as you let me drag you off to the back of my car before we’d even made it to Mr. Schue’s reception, I had a feeling.” 

Kurt raises his eyebrows. “Oh you did, did you? And what kind of feeling was that?” 

“That we were going to end up like this.” 

And then of course he kisses him, and they break the no-touching rule, again, but honestly, it was a stupid rule anyway, Kurt thinks, because what is he even supposed to do, when Blaine is looking at him like this, with his perfect eyes, and his perfect hands, tugging at Kurt’s waist, and his _lips_ right there in front of Kurt’s face. There’s no way he can resist this.

**

Eventually they make it to the wedding, and before Kurt knows it, they’re staring at mannequins with their faces plastered on them, and the biggest question of their lives is suddenly looming over them. 

And very quickly, it’s as if he’s learned nothing at all from rushing into things, because a very large part of Kurt is thinking, is _feeling_ , very seriously, that of course -- of course he needs to marry Blaine. _Right now_. Today.

He knows it’s completely insane, but it also sort of seems like nothing has ever made more sense. 

He stares at Blaine. They’re sitting down now, legs and shoulders pressed against each other on a _bale of hay_ because for god’s sake they only found out about this five minutes ago, and they have to sit down, they have to talk about this – there’s nowhere to go, and there’s no _time_. He squeezes Blaine’s hand, which is resting on his knee. They stare at each other. 

“So.” 

“Yeah…” 

Kurt is finding it a little hard to focus – five minutes ago, his most urgent issue had been how to keep the mud from ruining his shoes. He’s trying to make the transition to _should I marry the love of my life **today**_ but it’s not exactly easy. 

Blaine is studying his face, looking hopeful, happy, thoughtful – lots of things, all at once. There’s a little smile peeking out of the corner of his mouth, and then his face turns serious – calm, but serious.

“Kurt, do you remember how upset you were that one night, because you said you wanted to be able to go to a coffee shop by yourself?”

Kurt blinks. Of course he remembers. It had been about a week before they’d broken up, the last time. It’s not a pleasant memory. It’s Kurt at his most selfish, one of his lowest points, really. He’s learned a lot about himself since that night, but that doesn’t mean it’s any easier to remember now.

He focuses on Blaine’s face. 

“I was a little confused that day.” 

“Me, too,” Blaine says. “But if we do this-- I want you to know that you can go to a coffee shop by yourself every day if you want to. For as long as you want.” 

“I doubt that will be necessary, but okay,” Kurt says. There’s a constant chattering buzz outside the thin door, just past them - wedding guests, their friends and family, just a small reminder of the urgency here. Kurt tries his best to tune it all out. _They can wait_ , he thinks. He squeezes Blaine’s hand.

“I’m serious, Kurt. I know you need your time alone. We both do. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to ask my permission for anything.” 

“I know,” Kurt says. “I went to therapy too, remember.” 

“This isn’t therapy talking, Kurt, this is _me_.” Blaine squeezes his hand, and it forces Kurt to look at him. “I love you and I don’t want you to give anything up for me.” 

“I don’t want you to give up anything for me either.” 

“I will though,” Blaine says, and his eyes are watching Kurt’s carefully. “And you will too.” 

“I know,” Kurt says. He takes a deep breath. And yeah, Kurt is much more aware now of what exactly this means. He knows, and yet… “I still want this,” he says. “I really want it.” 

Blaine nods. “Me, too. So much,” he says, and presses his lips to Kurt’s. “So, what do you think?” he asks, staring at Kurt with a mixture of joy, and terror, and helplessness, like he’s not sure what’s supposed to happen next.

Kurt is already holding both of Blaine's hands, so he just squeezes them tight and stares into Blaine’s face. He takes a deep breath. 

“I think that I’m probably not done screwing things up, and I’m pretty sure that I still have no idea what I’m doing, but… I love you. And if—if you’ll have me, I’d like to try and figure the rest out with you.” 

Kurt takes a second and just breathes, before he smiles at Blaine. 

“Blaine, I’ve tried, but… I just can’t imagine my life without you. It doesn’t work. And so I don’t care if we’re nowhere near thirty, there’s no such thing as too soon, not anymore.” 

Blaine laughs a little at this, turns Kurt’s hands over in his. Kurt doesn’t want to let them go, ever.

“Please marry me, Blaine. I can’t let this moment pass me by again. Not with you.” 

Blaine sniffles a little. 

“And don’t you dare cry because if you cry, I’m going to cry and we have to go back out there and--”

"Okay," Blaine says, and he leans forward, presses his forehead against Kurt's. 

“Blaine, please tell me that’s a yes.” 

“Yes, Kurt – of course it’s a yes.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, eyes wide. 

A giddy laugh bubbles out of his chest when he realizes, suddenly, that they’ve _decided_. Together. They’re doing this.

"We're really doing this," Blaine says quietly. 

Kurt just nods in agreement, and when Blaine squeezes his hand, suddenly he’s breathless, his heart is pounding so wildly in his chest he’s sure every single person in this stupid barn must be able to hear it. 

Santana is motioning to them now from the doorway, a little frantically, Kurt can see her just out of the corner of his eye - it may, in fact, be time. 

"Okay, so let's do it," Blaine says, and they laugh one last time before they pull themselves together, and stand up, and pick little bits of hay from their pants, and change into more fashionable jackets. 

Santana and Brittany explain where they’re all going to stand, and then Brittany slides her arm into Kurt’s, just like they’ve practiced. 

And they walk down the aisle in front of everyone they’ve ever known, and they say their vows, and when it’s over, and they’ve done it, the room erupts into applause. 

It’s insane, and wonderful, and a little ridiculous and everything that Kurt and Blaine have always been, all wrapped into one. It’s perfect.

**

“So, Kurt Hummel-Warbler… How do you feel?” Brittany’s face is flushed and bright as she twirls under Kurt’s arm, dress spinning out around her knees. 

“I have no idea,” Kurt says, with a laugh. He tries to think for a moment, and it’s difficult – his brain feels like it’s buzzing with energy, dancing along to the beat of the music. He glances at Blaine across the dance floor, as he pulls Santana down into a low dip. Blaine is so damn handsome tonight – Kurt’s stomach dips right along with them. Then he remembers Brittany’s question, and says the first words that come to mind. “Happy. Lucky. Insane. Really tired. A little scared.” 

Brittany laughs, her eyes shining. “Thanks, Kurt. You don’t usually tell me the truth,” she says, as she snakes away from Kurt, and back into Santana’s arms. When he looks at her quizzically, she just shrugs. “Don’t worry. It’s nice.” 

“What was that about?” Blaine asks, cutting in. His face is so close that Kurt can feel the heat from his cheek. Blaine wraps his arm around Kurt’s waist, tugging him closer, and Kurt feels a surge of desire, and then a quick flash of a headline - _you’re married, and Blaine is your **husband**_. It’s enough to make him dizzy.

“She asked me how I felt,” he tells Blaine, pressing his palms against his back, grounding himself a little, a slow breath in, and out. “And I told her I had no idea – that I was a bunch of things all at once.” 

“That sounds about right,” Blaine says, sagging a little against Kurt’s shoulder, against his collar. 

“Oh thank god,” he says a second later, because Billie Holiday’s _I’ll Be Seeing You_ has come on, and the lights have dimmed and it means for just a second he can close his eyes and cling to Blaine and just _be_ here with him. 

“This is our wedding reception,” Blaine whispers, and the laugh that bubbles out of Kurt’s chest at the realization surprises him. 

“I know,” Kurt says, laughing and trying to catch his breath, which is difficult with Blaine pressing his forehead against his shoulder in an attempt to stop laughing himself. “We’re _married_ ,” he manages, between breaths. “This is so crazy.” 

“What on earth are we doing?” Blaine says, which for some reason is the most hilarious joke in the world to Kurt right now. 

He feels drunk, and he’s only had a few sips of champagne. Before he knows it, they’re both clinging to each other and practically shaking with laughter. They’ve forgotten the song, forgotten for a second, about the rest of the room, about Brittany and Santana, and all the other couples around them. Kurt feels giddy and ridiculous and so, so happy. He’d forgotten how wonderful it is to _laugh_ with Blaine.

“Okay, that felt really good,” Blaine admits a second later, after they’ve mostly pulled themselves together.

“It felt amazing,” Kurt says, glancing around at the couples around them – no one has seemed to have noticed their little fit of hysterics. “I was so tense.”

“Kind of hard not to be,” Blaine agrees, giving Kurt’s shoulders a quick squeeze. They sway to the music for a few beats, just breathing.

“So,” Blaine says after a moment. “All those things you told Brittany you were feeling all at once – anything I should know about?”

Blaine’s eyes are searching, hopeful, happy – pretty much everything Kurt’s feeling, and more.

Kurt shakes his head. “You know, I was really worried about how on earth we were going to even start planning another wedding, and so this just feels… perfect, you know? It’s a barn in Indiana, and it’s perfect.”

Blaine closes his eyes, smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “Who knew?” 

“And you know, I feel like I should be terrified, but I’m not. I mean, this whole thing is crazy, but… I’m honestly just happy, and grateful, and god, I’m so tired,” Kurt says, smiling. “I think I might start tripping over my feet in a second here. But it’s a good kind of tired, you know?”

Blaine just nods, and with Blaine staring into his face like this, it’s making it really hard for Kurt to hold everything he’s feeling in anymore. He feels like he could burst into tears at any moment – not because he’s upset, but just because he’s not used to feeling so much, all at once, especially in the middle of a crowded room filled with pretty much everyone he’s ever known. 

_I’ll Be Seeing You_ segues into _Endless Love_ and Kurt thinks he’s never been more grateful for whoever it was who decided they needed two classic love songs to dance to in a row.

“So what is it that you think you should be terrified of?” Blaine asks, snaking his hands around Kurt’s waist, and pulling them together to the beat of the music. 

“Right now?” 

“Right now,” Blaine says, and there’s no fear in his voice, just curiosity. 

Kurt closes his eyes, and leans in close to Blaine, his voice quiet. “Right now I probably should be afraid of rushing into something like this all over again, of us being too young, of _you_. I should be, but I’m not, not really.” 

Kurt watches the light filter and dance across Blaine’s face for a moment.

“And I mean, of course the future is scary,” Kurt says. “But the big things – I think we’ve figured them out. And everything else has just kind of faded into the background.” 

“Yeah, I think I know exactly what you mean,” Blaine says, and then he brushes his thumb across Kurt’s cheek lightly, and kisses him, soft and sweet, and just long enough for Kurt to start imagining all the things they’re going to do in their hotel room later. 

When the song ends, and something fast paced that Kurt vaguely recognizes as one of last summer’s big hits comes on, he’s just about to plead exhaustion when Blaine grabs his hand.

“Come outside with me?” he asks, but it’s not really a question, because Blaine is already snaking his way off of the dance floor, and leading Kurt towards the doors. 

**

Outside, the air is cool, and dark. It takes Kurt a second to settle into the relative silence, to let the music fade out behind closed doors behind them. Out here there’s just the light sound of their feet against the grass and dirt, and their breath. There’s a bench that he can see, off to the side, and both of them half-run, half-stumble over to it, and sink down next to each other with matching sighs. 

“Everyone’s going to think we snuck out here to have sex,” Blaine says, grinning at him. 

“How scandalous,” Kurt says, and closes his eyes, feeling content in a way that he hasn’t in a long, long time. Blaine slouches down on the bench for a second, and then presses his cheek against Kurt’s shoulder. 

“You know, I feel like I should be scared, too,” Blaine says, and squeezes Kurt’s hand. “But one thing I think I learned over the past few months is that I just don’t want to waste any more time. I love you way too much.” 

Kurt opens his eyes, and Blaine is staring up at the sky. Kurt looks up at the blanket of stars overhead. He’s never been very good at picking out constellations, but he’s always loved the glow overhead on a clear night.

“People are never going to stop telling us we’re crazy for doing this,” Kurt says. “ _I’m_ never going to stop telling us.”

“Honestly, I don’t think any of that matters,” Blaine says. “What people think, what we’re supposed to do, how we’re supposed to do it.” He shakes his head. “I know I want to be with you, forever. That’s what’s important. We’re just two people, and life is so short.” 

“A couple of days, right?” Kurt says, and looks over at Blaine, studying his face for a moment. He looks exhausted. He looks like Kurt feels – worn out and emotional, and maybe a little relieved that it’s finally over.

“What do you mean?”

“When my dad and I were on our way to your surprise proposal,” Kurt says, “and I was freaking out, he told me that in the end, the time you have with someone comes down to a few days. He was talking about my mom.” Kurt stares at the sky for a moment, thinks about how long it’s taken him to be able to say something like that, without dissolving into a teary mess. “And I don’t know why it took me so long, but I think I finally understand what he meant. I mean, if I only have a few days, I know exactly who I want to spend them with.”

“You never told me about that before,” Blaine says, and suddenly his face is bright with emotion.

“Well, it’s good to know that I still have a few surprises left.” 

“Kurt, you are the single most surprising person I’ve met in my entire life.”

Blaine leans over and kisses him then, so deeply that Kurt has to resist the urge to crawl into his lap. He feels like he’d do anything, just to be closer to Blaine, even by an inch. His emotions feel so raw, he’s not sure he can contain them anymore, it’s as if everything he’s been feeling, this whole day, this whole _year_ , it’s all risen right to the surface. And then he realizes how tightly Blaine is gripping his shoulders, and it occurs to him that maybe Blaine is feeling the same way. 

He presses their foreheads together for a brief second, just long enough to catch his breath, and then he starts with Blaine’s neck, pressing soft kisses there until he can feel Blaine relax against him, until Blaine’s hands come up against his neck and he’s ready to kiss his lips again, slower this time, just their lips, just their noses pressed against each other and his hands at the base of Blaine’s neck, fingertips grazing the soft skin under his collar. 

Kurt breathes him in, breathes the entire moment in, the entire day, maybe. This day that started with Kurt wondering how on earth they were going to get through yet another wedding without something crazy happening. This day that started with Kurt wondering how they’d ever broach the subject of their own wedding again after everything that’s happened. It feels like a million years ago now, like another lifetime. 

“We really have to thank Brittany and Santana,” Kurt says, a little breathlessly. “I mean, like, really thank them.” 

Blaine nods, his face flushed and adorable in the darkness. “And probably Sue too.” 

“What do you think would be appropriate?”

“I have no idea,” Blaine says, entangling himself from Kurt’s legs, sitting up a little straighter. “But whatever it is, we probably can’t afford it.”

“Can’t really put a price tag on this, anyway,” Kurt says. 

Blaine shakes his head. “No way. We’re priceless.” 

Kurt laughs. 

“Maybe they’d accept a duet?” Blaine suggests. “I still miss singing with you like crazy – two birds, one stone.” 

“Deal,” Kurt says, and leans in for another kiss, because he just can’t help it. 

“The only problem with this plan is that it involves us going back in there.” Blaine tilts his head toward the door, where they can just barely make out strains of Brittany and Santana singing at the top of their lungs. “And if we go back in there…” he says, eyes dark and mischievous.

“You’ll have to stop kissing me?” 

Blaine nods. “I’ll have to stop kissing you.” 

Kurt stares at him for a moment. “Who says we can’t make out and sing at the same time? I mean, have we ever tried it?” 

Blaine laughs, full and happy, and then pulls Kurt close, holding them there tightly for a long moment. 

“You know, it’s kind of crazy,” Kurt says, and when Blaine tilts his head up at him, they both let out a long breath. It feels like the air and the sky breathes with them, like they’re both somehow connected to all of it. 

“What?” Blaine says. “Being married?”

Kurt laughs. “Well, sure, but… I was just thinking. I spent so much time, after we broke up, thinking about everything. About what I wanted, what you wanted, if we wanted the same things, wondering if we’d ever be on the same page, but now I feel like none of that even matters. Because it’s always been you, at the center of everything. Everything leads me back to you, everything I do, everywhere I go. It’s like I have a map written on my heart, and it always just… It points me back to you. Not because it’s inevitable, but because I’ve _chosen_ you. I keep choosing you.” 

Blaine draws in a long, shaky breath.

“No,” Kurt says, watching his face. “Blaine, please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry!”

“But if you start crying then I’m--”

But of course, Kurt is crying already.

Blaine pulls him close after a second, and presses a quick kiss to his lips. 

“Come on,” Kurt says, still sniffling a little. “We have to go back in there.”

Blaine smiles softly. “I think we’ve got time. And besides… That map written on your heart thing? I think that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me. I’m going to need you to continue.”

Kurt laughs. “I really hope you’re kidding.”

“What, you don’t think it’s romantic?”

Kurt’s stomach clenches; he stares at Blaine, and nods. “Maybe a little. It’s true though. It’s…”

Blaine’s eyes are bright and clear and Kurt is overwhelmed for a moment. Because yeah, it really _is_ true – even if there are no guarantees. Even if all of this disappears tomorrow, Kurt realizes. It doesn’t change a damn thing about this, about how he feels right now.

Blaine pulls him close then, and Kurt whispers _it’s true_ against Blaine’s neck, against his fingers like a mantra. He says it until the tears dry on his face, and his heart stops pounding, until Blaine says _I know_ and threads his fingers through Kurt’s hair, until he can breathe again.

“Okay,” Blaine says, finally, after they’ve both gone a full minute or so without crying. His eyes are clear and shining with more happiness than Kurt’s ever seen in them – it makes his chest feel loose and light, like his heart has been set free, maybe. “You ready?” 

And Kurt can _feel_ it, the same feeling he’d felt so long ago, standing in front of a boy on a staircase whose eyes were so bright and open that they changed something inside of him for good.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Kurt says. “Let’s go.” 

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s it! They made it to the happy ending! And so did I, lol ;) 
> 
> You know, when I started this I really had no idea how much interest there’d be for something like this that follows canon, especially so late in the game, but for me, as problematic as canon is sometimes, there was still a lot there that interested me, and that I wanted to explore and try to make sense of. And I really hope that I did them both justice in the end. I’d love to know what you think, so please drop me a comment if you’re so inclined :) And thank you so much to all of you for reading! <3

**Author's Note:**

> My best guess is that this will be around 30-40K total and I'll do my very best to update regularly - my goal is every two weeks, if not sooner. (I have a good deal written already, it's just...editing :P) 
> 
> That being said, thank you for reading <3 Comments and feedback are always greatly appreciated :) 
> 
> Also! A giant thank you to Tiff for her help with this, and to mindifimoveincloser, for encouraging me to come to Klaine in the first place <3


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